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Father Krampus

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

It was an old cliché that there were countless words for snow across the world, but for Brandt there were just two kinds; the snow on postcards and in movies, showing a winter wonderland... and the messy slop that was an inconvenience.

Brandt sat in his car, his breath lingering in the air in front of him, his window frosted over on the inside with vapor as the defroster tried to warm up. The thirty eight year old goosed the gas pedal a little, bringing the RPM up to try and rouse a little more heat. His pale brown eyes glanced up at the rear view mirrors, counting the lines that cut through the ice in the back. There was nothing to do but wait; though that was something he'd never excelled at.

He'd always been an impatient child. It had been a blessing and a curse. There were numerous times he'd gotten in trouble for hunting down his Christmas presents days early. He had always been the first to climb a tree, to swim to the other side. Brandt had pushed hard to be the first selected for the football team, and he'd been the first person in his class to become a father... and the first to be divorced too.

Brandt leaned back in his seat, watching as the mirror thawed enough to see the driveway and his reflection looking back at himself. He wasn't even forty yet, though he could feel a bit of weight on his shoulders. He'd had two sons and raised them himself. His hair was a light brown with hints of sand around the temple, shorn short and grown out from going bald over the summer. There were a few wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, but for the most part he still looked fit and healthy. He had to be if he was going to keep two teenagers in line.

With a small V shaped gap in the frost on the windshield and a ladder of defrosted lines in the back window, Brandt was willing to play the odds and head out. He threw the car into reverse, turned to peer out the back of his seat and pulled out, turning the wheel to bring the car into the lane just as another car came to an abrupt stop, honking harshly. Brandt winced at his mistake and pressed on, moving down the road with the irritated driver behind him.

Like so much else in his life, it was yet another accident that could have been prevented with a little foresight, a little preparation... but that wasn't his style. It had given Brandt the best gifts of his life, even if it had been challenging. Brandt smiled a bit, thinking about his boys. Bryce was trying to find a job to help support them all as well, though at nineteen he didn't have much experience yet... and Deke? Deke was living up his last year of high school, eighteen years old and care free.

Brandt slowed the car a little, feeling it shimmy and drift a bit on a patch of ice. He should have invested in chains or studded tires, but as usual he had relied on his instincts to get him through it all safely. A quick glance in the rear view mirror showed that the angry driver had backed off a little at least. Small victories. With attention returned forward, Brandt slowed to a stop at the light, waited, and then spun his tires a bit on the green. He gritted his teeth and went slower, letting them get traction before he resumed his journey to work.

****

The snow had started to come down harder and harder, blanketing the city. The clouds seemed too low and too close, giving the skies a steel grey tone. The sidewalks had disappeared beneath blankets of powder and the leafless bony trees collected the precipitation like a canopy of ice. Troughs of slush had been formed as cars pressed on down the road anyway. Brandt wasn't sure if he'd call it beautiful, but he'd certainly call it different.

He looked out at the road from behind the glass walls segmenting off the auto garage from the outside weather. The sound of tires being rotated filled the air along with the hydraulics of tools being used on lug nuts. Brandt was wearing the customary black coveralls and a grey cap over his brown hair as he worked, checking oil levels and making sure their customers had windshield fluid that wouldn't freeze solid as soon as they pulled out of the garage.

"Did you notice how it's always cars that are the same color as snow or fog that don't turn their lights on?" One of Brandt's co-workers asked. Brandt shook off his distraction, looking at his co-worker. Mike was a good guy - mid forties, shaved head, short black goatee and good at his work. Brandt looked back almost with a bit of scorn.

"Don't tell me you're still looking at the drivers to figure out who forgets the most..." Brandt chided. Mike shrugged.

"The math doesn't hold up. I've got some suspicions, but really the drivers are pretty much anybody. But the white and grey cars do it way more than all the others!" Mike said. Brandt smirked at that, checking the fluid level on the gauge. Both mechanics looked up as a short, triple ring came from the red phone mounted to the cinderblock wall. Mike grunted a bit as he pushed himself up and moved over to lift the receiver, bringing it to his ear.

"What is it?" Brandt asked. Mike shot him a look to shut him up.

"Yeah, we've just got two right now." Mike replied to the person on the other end, nodding even though they couldn't see it, "Alright. We'll lock up when we're done." He added before hanging up the phone. Brandt turned, peeking through the windows to look at the showroom of the dealership. A few of the employees were still there with the two drivers waiting for their car to be fixed, but they'd gone so far as to turn off the coffee machine and some of the other equipment.

"I drove all the way here, almost got hit, and now we're going home two hours after we opened." Brandt complained. Mike moved over and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Hey, at least you get a chance to hang out with your kids on a snow day." Mike commented. Brandt snorted.

"They're eighteen and nineteen, one's going to sleep until dinner time and the other's going to play so many video games he won't know that it's a snow day." Brandt countered. Mike smirked to himself.

"Hey, both sound like perfect ways to spend the day if you ask me. Maybe you should take a page from their book." Mike said. Brandt didn't have a witty response and just nodded. When it came down to it, there was nothing he could do if the garage was shutting down early. He just had to try and find a way to enjoy it.

"I'll do a final check on the Lexus if you want to do the paperwork on this one?" Brandt asked. Mike grinned.

"See, now you're getting in the spirit." He smirked, moving to grab the computer tablet to write up the invoice and the maintenance files. Brandt moved over to the car in bay two. They were up against the clock now, but he was going to do his best work to make sure the driver headed out safe and sound.

****

The windshield wipers whirred back and forth, pulsing with each defiant swipe as they tried to fight back the steady flow of white coming down across the car. Brandt focused as best he could, but visibility was practically limited to the hood of the car and the headlights did little more than illuminate the thousands of flakes falling from the heavens. Brandt's eyes tightened, cursing his boss for not just closing in the first place with that many weather advisories in place.

Little by little, the snow was coming down harder and harder. Supposedly it was mid-day, but there was so much snow and the clouds were so thick that it seemed almost like night. Brandt knew he should pull over to the side of the road, but then what? What if his car died? What if he got stuck, what it he- his thoughts were disrupted by blinding light filling up the windshield. Brandt steered away from it, the light disappearing along with the road. Everything fell away into silence in an instant.

****

There was very little sound as the snow fell among the birch trees, settling into a blanket of white among the ash white trunks. There were no leaves, no bushes, just a blind field of white on white. The muffled silence was disrupted as Brandt trudged out through the snow, step by step, sinking to his knees. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, though he slowed to a stop as he realized he had no memory of getting out of the car, or exactly where he was going.

Resolution melted away and Brandt slowed to a stop, turning his head, looking back the way he had come, then forward. Where was he? How did he get there? A sound startled him and he turned, nearly falling over, tangled up in the deep snow. It had sounded like the rattle of chains, or maybe metal scraping on metal? He looked around so fast he nearly made himself dizzy until, finally, he saw movement.

It was fleeting, a blur between birch trees, then a shadow, and then finally a form. It emerged out of the snow in silhouette before the light was able to catch up to it. Brandt felt the color draining out of his face as he saw what was coming - the creature. From the faintest of outlines it was clear it wasn't human, not really. It moved on two legs, it had arms, but it also had things that no man had - horns.

Brandt trembled, not just from the cold. The creature moved close enough to see properly, from the huge sloped horns curving back over the back of his head before splaying out, to the long goat like ears, to the thick black claws, to the dense wooly fur on his legs, even to the wide hooves that pressed down into the snow. The creature's face was demonic, as much beast as man, and an oddly, wickedly long purple tongue hung down from between two tusk like lower fangs.

The creature's fur was dark, though the tips had faded to white, giving the being a frosted sort of look. His eyes gleamed yellow with a heat well beyond the frigid winter season. His square jaw was framed by a mane of what seemed to be a mix of fur and hair, making a sort of beard, and the fur on his face was short and velvety, almost not there. Even his nose was strange, almost feline the way it was blunted and slit.

A glint of gold came from several piercings in his pointed ears, a ring hanging from his feline nose, and light shining off his wicked serrated teeth. Brandt was frozen in place, looking at the creature, but the creature was looking back at him. It examined the human curiously, even going so far as to circle around him a bit. It looked at Brandt as if it knew him, and somehow Brandt got the unnerving feeling that he knew the creature as well, that he knew this place.

"Who are you?" Brandt broke the silence. The creature slowed and smiled, his very long tongue slipping back up into his mouth.

"You ask me that every time we meet, young Brandt." The creature replied.

"Who are you?" The question sounded the same, but younger. Brandt turned to see a younger version of himself, no more than thirteen standing in the snow with a peach fuzz mustache and a torn up black denim jacket.

"Who are you?" The voice was older, another version of himself at nineteen, looking forlorn and tired, pale, gaunt, exhausted. He had on a messy t-shirt, dirty jeans... dirty with spit up. He remembered that, when he'd been taking care of Bryce while his mother was sick, before she got even sicker.

"I am Krampus." The creature replied, satisfying the questions of his past and present versions. The echo of Brandt's past disappeared, leaving him there in the snow with the creature.

"I've heard that somewhere before..." Brandt murmured.

"Yes, here... from me." The creature smiled his devilish, fang filled smile.

"No, I mean... that's a Christmas thing, right?" he asked.

"I am no thing!" The Krampus replied, brandishing a birch branch from beside himself, swatting Brandt's arm. Brandt winced from the strike, his arm darkening where it was hit.

"I'm sorry!" Brandt murmured, "I'm trying to remember, I-" Brandt froze, looking back to where his thirteen year old self had been, "It wasn't daytime when we met, that time. I snuck out on Christmas Eve, I was going to go to a party, my parents told me no, I..."

"You were going to break their hearts again, just as you always had. Time after time, disobedient. I came to take you away, but you pleaded with me, you begged for a miracle... and I granted it to you." The Krampus replied. Brandt nodded swiftly.

"And then... it was again when Tina was... When she passed away, and Deke wasn't strong enough. I begged you... for a miracle, that Deke would survive." Brandt whispered. The Krampus moved closer.

"And he did, he grew up to be a strong boy." The Krampus nodded.

"And now?" Brandt asked. The Krampus took yet another step closer.

"Now you are here to beg me for one more miracle." The Krampus said softly.

"But the boys are okay, life... it's not great, but it's going okay... And you aren't a miracle giver, are you? That's not your whole thing? I don't know what I'd come here to-" Brandt stopped and looked back the way he had come, realizing that he had left no footprints in the snow despite struggling so much. He took a breath, "I'm... I'm supposed to beg for myself, aren't I? I died..."

"You are between worlds at the moment, between the veil of life and death. It is why your memories can appear to you so easily." The Krampus said. Brandt was quiet for a long moment.

"I died... and I'm supposed to beg you to live, so my kids don't have to go on without their father." Brandt murmured. The Krampus nodded slowly, but Brandt turned to look back at where his younger self had been standing, "But it wasn't just a miracle, you... you made me promise something."

"Good souls do not just take and take without understanding that they have to give something in return." The Krampus replied, moving closer until he was but inches away from Brandt.

"I... offered you myself..." Brandt whispered in realization. The Krampus grinned and reached up to rest his clawed hand on the human's face. As he touched it, the skin tingled and stubble began to push out through the skin.

"Not just yourself... You gave your life to save your son's, but you made more deals with me... I am owed two more." The Krampus replied. Brandt's eyes widened.

"My... my sons? I can't, they... they were-" Brandt shuddered, feeling a hand cup his crotch, feeling blood pool into his manhood.

"They were as boys are. Mischievous, disrespectful, but not bad enough to take to hell. They walk the line between good and bad which is where the Krampus must patrol." The Krampus whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on Brandt's lips. He felt his ears tingle as they started to push into points, his tongue stinging as it ran across sharper teeth. He pulled back.

"It's not up to me, their lives are their own!" Brandt declared. The Krampus grinned.

"A perfect answer..." The Krampus said knowingly, smiling more, "You did not try to bargain your son's lives for your own. In the end, the decision was never up to you." He replied. Brandt's heart sank again.

"So that's it, I'm dead?" Brandt asked. The krampus growled a little, reaching up to rub his head around the edge of his horn.

"You humans are so... limited with memory and concept." The Krampus said, "I am owed two more. You will be forbidden to speak of our arrangement to any mortal being. If they open themselves up to our family, to this opportunity, you will live. You and your sons will have many years to come together, but on the eves of the winter, you will work for me."

"And if they don't?" Brandt asked. The Krampus turned and started to move back the way he had come.

"Then they will learn what it is like to lose yet another parent before their time." The Krampus replied, moving back off between the birch trees. With each step he seemed less and less tangible until he disappeared entirely, a shadow caught on a breeze.

****

The steady sputter of the engine vibrated through the chassis of the car. It was a little more turbulent than it was during the summer, the cold air really making the car work for it. The first thing that Brandt realized was that his knuckles were clutching the steering wheel so tight that it hurt, and then he realized that he was freezing. His eyes snapped open, he sat bolt upright in the seat and looked around his own garage.

Brandt had no memory of making it home, and a quick glance to the rear view window showed that it probably wouldn't have been possible anyway. The snow was so deep that the street and sidewalks were indistinguishable from one another. Brandt turned the engine off and reached for the keys, though his fingernails scraped across the console, making him shiver. Brandt looked down at his hand, seeing that his nails were long and pointed and a good deal thicker than normal.

Taking more care than the first time, Brandt turned the car off, slipped the keys out, unbuckled himself and slipped out of the car. He felt chilled to the bone, but also oddly stimulated. His nipples were rock hard and his pants were showing off a fair bit of tenting. Brandt shut it out of his mind and hit the button for the garage door, sending it rumbling shut. He watched as the snowy exterior disappeared behind one last barrier before he moved inside.

The difference between the garage and the house was night and day. The heat was on full blast, all the lights were on and he could hear the sound of video games blasting from the sound bar in the living room. Brandt dropped his keys into a wooden bowl sitting on a stand by the garage door and moved further in, spotting his younger son sitting on the couch cross legged wearing blue and green plaid pajama pants and a too-tight t-shirt with a worn off emblem from a heavy metal band.

Deke was tuned fully into the television, his chocolate brown eyes glazed over, his fingers flying over the controller. He was getting a bit shaggy with stubble covering his cheeks and his hair down to his shoulders in feathered layers. Normally Brandt would have gotten all over him for running up the electric bill, but that seemed trivial now... all things considered.

Brandt opened his mouth to speak, but he remembered the Krampus' words. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't share with his kids that their choice was to give up their humanity or their father. Even if he could, was that something he wanted to put on their shoulders? Whatever happened, he just wanted to enjoy what time he had left with them. Brandt moved over to sit down. Deke looked up, confused for a moment about what time it was.

"Hey dad, you okay?" Deke asked. Brandt smiled at that and reached out, ruffling up his son's shaggy hair.

"Yeah. Work closed because of the weather. I thought I'd come home and enjoy a snow day with my boys." Brandt said. Deke grinned.

"It's been a while since we all had a snow day, huh? You want to go a few rounds?" Deke asked, offering his dad the controller. Brandt considered for a moment.

"Sure, show your old man a few tricks." Brandt grinned, letting his son grab another controller. It was stunning how much of himself he saw in Deke, but also how much of his own man he was. Brandt watched him move, seeing his height, his strength, his skill... feeling a heat growing in his chest, but soon he realized elsewhere as well. A flash crossed Brandt's mind, of grabbing onto Deke's head, plunging a long, wicked Krampus tongue down his mouth as he felt his son's horns burst out of his skull and his fangs fill in.

Brandt shook his head, breathing too fast, trying to get the image out of his mind. Deke had been too focused on setting up the game to notice. Brandt leaned back on the couch but froze, realizing that his pant leg had pulled up, revealing a patch of dark fur around his ankle. He reached down to adjust his jeans. Deke was oblivious, leaning back and even against his dad's side as he loaded the level.

"This is my favorite spot, you can tell the developers spent a lot of time trying to get the level just right." Deke said. The screen unfurled in a storm of cherry blossoms, revealing a forest glade. A rotund bard character moved out onto the screen, his body flexing back and forth as he spoiled for a fight. On the other side of the screen, a black draconic looking demon emerged. Brandt's back tightened a bit at that.

"Who is that?" Brandt asked.

"That's Cain, he's kind of overpowered, but he's good to use while you warm up." Deke replied. Deke's Bard moved forward and took a few jabs. Brandt returned the favor, but he couldn't stop looking at the avatar's horns, his dark skin, his swaying tail... Brandt felt his heat rising, his heart raising, his cock getting more and more aroused. He looked down at the clear tent in his pants, his shirt rising up to reveal his hairy stomach. His face tingled as his stubble darkened more and more.

Brandt focused that energy into his hands, turning the tables on Deke, laying into his bard. The demon punched and kicked and slammed into the bard until the round was over, then a second, then the match. When the winner was declared, Brandt dropped the controller, almost panting as sweat beaded his brow. Deke, however, was grinning ear to ear. He spun to look at his dad with pride.

"You're so good! You could beat my friends!" Deke said happily. Brandt looked into his son's eyes, still finding it hard to quench the heat growing in his heart.

"You inspire me to be great..." Brandt said before he pushed himself up off the couch, taking a few steps before realizing how stiff his feet were. They were aching, stiff, tight... The changes were certainly setting in. Brandt decided a shower might be the best course of action.

"Dad, I love you." Deke said over the back of the couch. The words were heartwarming, but Brandt could feel his ears lengthen, his teeth sharpen, even a rigid bump forming on each temple. That love brought with it devotion, and that devotion would chain Deke to him.

"I love you too..." Brandt said in return, unable to stop himself as he pushed his way into the bathroom, turned the shower on full blast and shut the door. His clothes fell off in messy heaps on the floor. Steam billowed out of the shower and Brandt reached in, bracing his arm against the wall, eyes looking at the black furry patch growing out in a thick tuft from his elbow. He had fur on the other one as well, and his chest... His nipples had darkened from pink to brown, his bush was thicker, and his cock... was mesmerizing.

Brandt looked down at himself, at all ten inches of thick, hard, wide meat. His clawed hand reached for it, tantalizingly close when he heard the door to the bathroom open. Bryce had stumbled in after finally waking up, making it halfway to the toilet when he realized the bathroom was in use. He looked up, catching a fleeting glimpse of his father's naked form before Brandt lunged into the water and pulled the curtain shut.

"Sorry dad..." Bryce muttered, a bit startled. His dad always locked the door when he was showering. Bryce blinked a bit, replaying what he had seen in his mind. It had been little more than a blur, but his dad was a lot more fit than he had expected, and his cock had been huge. Bryce hesitated before going back for the door.

"If... If you need to use the bathroom, you can. I'm already in here after all." Brandt muttered. He was shocked himself, he had been a bit of a prude, but now? Something inside him was changing.

"Sure, uh, thanks." Bryce replied, standing in front of the mirror. He had taken a road halfway between his father and Deke, shaving the sides of his head like his dad but growing out the middle like his little bro. On days he had to look professional he tied it back into a short, high ponytail, and other times he styled it into a mohawk.

Bryce made his way to the toilet and unzipped before letting loose, releasing all the pent up piss he'd built up over night. Brandt heard the strong, powerful stream and how long it lasted until it finally subsided. There was a flush, a pause, and then the sound of the door opening and closing again. Brandt stood there, water beating against his forehead and running down his face, his clawed hand starting to slide up and down the length of his cock as he thought about his sons and what handsome, strong men they had grown into. In no time at all, Brandt's thick cock began drooling pre, a musky, spicy scent wafting up into the bathroom around them.

****

"H-hey, dad? Are you... awake?" a small, soft voice slipped through the door of Brandt's bedroom, left slightly ajar. Deke was standing in the doorway, scratching his forearm in the darkness of the hallway, his worried eyes trying to peer inside his dad's room. Brandt murmured, half asleep on his bed. He blinked a few times and sat up, reorienting himself to the waking world. The bedroom was swathed in dull amber light, a scarf draped over a lamp dulling the light.

"What is it, bud?" Brandt asked, giving his son a smile. Despite the adventure of the day, he didn't want to deprive his sons of any attention, especially if his time truly was limited. Deke coughed a couple times and didn't move from the spot, a bashfulness that was in stark contrast with his usual bubbly, happy self.

"I-it's... a bit embarrassing, dad. Can I come in?" he murmured, as scratching sounds - nails against fabric on skin - could be faintly heard.

"Sure, you can talk to me about anything." Brandt said, now truly curious. He swung his legs off the edge of the bed and moved to face his son more directly.

"U-um, okay... but promise you won't laugh, okay?" Deke said, stepping inside the room and into the light; he was wearing one of the almost skin-tight t-shirts he was apparently so fond of and a pair of pajama pants, and everything looked perfectly normal at first... until Deke once again started scratching his forearms, that were now covered in dark brown, wiry hair that would have felt much more at place on the arms of a big buff bearish guy than on his slender, twinky limbs. A tuft of hair poked from above the round collar of his t-shirt, and his cheeks and chin had somewhat of a shadow over them, a sparse but definite stubble. "I... don't know what's happening, dad. I didn't have all of... this, earlier today! Is this like... a late bout of puberty or something?!"

Brandt blinked again, clearing his eyes, looking at his son. The sudden change was dramatic to say the least... His youthful arms were covered with a very mature dusting of hair, almost excessively so. When days before he'd barely managed more than peach fuzz, now his cheeks and chin were darkening with the blossoming of manhood. It hit Brandt all at once, piecing together what was happening... The Krampus' influence was creeping in, guiding Deke, reshaping him... and it was damn hot.

"Yeah..." Brandt murmured before he shook his head, trying to up his confidence, "Yes, of course! I mean, late puberty runs in the family. But it's perfectly normal!" Brandt said, feeling his own cheeks flush and his cock hardening in his pants, "I mean, you look great Deke... You always liked those heavy metal bands, they have big beards a lot of the time, right?" Brandt asked, looking over his son head to toe before patting the bed next to him. Deke bit his lip, still a bit confused and perturbed, then nodded and climbed on the bed like he had done countless times when he was a little kid and the shadows in the dark corners his bedroom looked too much like horrible monsters.

"I know, but it's just... weird, you know? It's just a small thing, but when I stared at myself in the mirror earlier, it was as if... I was looking at someone completely different, as if I was inhabiting another person's skin? I'm sorry, I'm sure it sounds silly," he added, shaking his head. Brandt reached over and rubbed Deke's back, feeling the thicker muscles pushing against the fabric of his well worn shirt, not to mention the fuzzy coating of hair along his back.

"I felt the same way when I was your age..." Brandt said, his voice soothing and comforting. The words slipped so easily from his mouth. He wanted to give his son comfort and ease, but at the same time he felt this forbidden magnetism, this connection. His son was growing into a man and he... liked it. He liked it a lot. Brandt tried to shake it off, "You're growing into something... someone new. It'll take a while to get to know him, what he's capable of, what he likes... But I know you'll grow to love the man you're becoming." Deke let out a soft moan, and immediately after his eyes went wide, his cheeks crimson.

"O-oh, damn, sorry, dad. I didn't mean to... do that," he mumbled, but didn't try to move from that spot. "It's just that your... your hand feels good. So warm and gentle. I-it feels like... feels like love, yeah," he said, a crooked, dorky smile on his youthful face.

"It may surprise you, but I still remember what it was like to have growing pains." Brandt said, slipping over behind his son. He reached up and started to massage Deke's shoulders, working his fingers in, feeling how hefty his shoulders had truly gotten... not to mention his arms. They stretched the tight sleeves of the shirt to the limits. Brandt kept massaging, trying to bring his son relief, starting to smell the faint hint of birch bark in the air.

Brandt's lips tightened a bit as he ran his tongue across sharper teeth before he froze, realizing what he was doing. He swallowed nervously and eased off the massage, slipping back to his side position before giving his son an awkward smile, trying to smooth over the taboo that he had just been indulging.

"Does that feel any better?" Brandt asked hopefully, exhaling a bit. Deke's breathing rhythm was much heavier than before, and as soon as Brandt stopped talking, it became pretty clear he was actually panting.

"Y-yes, dadd... dad. B-but maybe we should stop now?" he murmured, his hands trying to cover his groin area. His pajama pants seemed oddly tented, as if they were being straining to keep something in place, something pretty long and sizeable. "I, um... s-should probably go a-and... take a shower or something."

"Yeah..." Brandt murmured and nodded, feeling the odd magnetism between them, "Yeah. You've had a long day," he said, leaning back on his bed, unaware that his shirt had ridden up to reveal just how hairy his stomach had gotten, far surpassing Deke's forest of fur. The hair was thick enough that it nearly obscured his tightening stomach. His younger son caught a passing glance of it, and his eyes widened in shock.

"D-dad, it's... happening to you too?!" he half-whispered, half-exclaimed, his trembling hand extending seemingly on its own accord until his fingertips brushed against the dark pelt covering his father's abdomen. "'cause I'm sure as hell you weren't this... furry today." His stare, once again, became confused and scared like a small woodland creature trapped in a cage of doubts and anxiety.

"I, uh... I try to keep it in check most of the time, but sometimes I have to let the animal out, you know?" Brandt murmured, "Sometimes it's good just... to be the beast..." he added, not sure if he was helping his case or not, but feeling his son touch his fur, to feel that heat, his cock was throbbing, his nipples were tight, his breathing was shallow. He wanted to stop himself, to hold back, but the urges were stronger than his will power. The most he could do was keep himself frozen in spot, watching Deke. The cross-eyed expression on the face of his younger son was almost comical.

"Wait, t-the... beast? Are you... are you a werewolf, dad?!" the boy said, almost offended. "N-no, wait a moment... am I a werewolf too? Is that why I'm getting all this body fur?" As he had that mini freakout, he never stopped caressing his dad's pelt, and his fingers even climbed up his shirt, caressing the bottom part of his juicy pecs. Brandt half moaned and half chuckled, not stopping Deke's hands from wandering.

"No, werewolves aren't real... at least I don't think they are... But we're special, Deke. Our family... You just... have to embrace it." Brandt murmured, his voice deepening a little, becoming more sinewy. The air in the room was getting hotter and thicker, full of musk. The amber light cast from the covered lamp seemed to become richer and redder, washing out over the father and son in such a close proximity. Deke groaned, as a small damp spot appeared on the front of his pants.

"D-daddy, I... I mean, i-it's wrong, right? A father and a son shouldn't... we shouldn't feel... these kind of feelings... right?" he murmured as he panted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes unfocused and hazy.

"The only question you have to ask... is if you love me..." Brandt whispered, unable to stop himself. He gave Deke a smile and reached out, ruffling the back of his shaggy hair at the base of his neck as they looked at each other eye to eye. Deke blushed, the innocence of his eighteen years making his irises sparkle.

"I... I do, daddy. But..." he protested, feebly. He couldn't deny that he was feeling an attraction - no, even more than that, it was a magnetism, a sensation that was almost physical - towards his father, but it was an alien feeling, something he had never even taken into consideration before that night. "I... want to touch you so bad..." Words escaped his lips before he could restrain himself, and a soft yelp of frustration followed.

"Just come be close, like when you were little..." Brandt murmured. He laid back and pulled his son close to cuddle, their bodies lying against one another, leg to leg, bathed in the soft dull light of the bedroom at night.

"W-well, I mean..." Deke murmured, his cheeks flushed. His wavy hair looked a bit longer than before, cascading on his forehead and almost reaching his eyes in a messy but somewhat stylish way. "When I was little, I didn't, you know..." and then he mumbled something else, in too low of a voice to be understood. Brandt grinned gently and reached out to caress Deke's cheek, feeling the soft downy fuzz growing there. He followed it down to his son's chin and found even more, his thumb starting to stroke the thickening pelt.

"We're always family, no matter what... you know that, right?" Brandt whispered, looking at his son with such pride, though he felt other growing feelings as well. Deke scratched his neck, nodding.

"S-so you mean it's normal if I want to, y'know... touch your p-penis, daddy?" he asked, his voice faltering towards the end of the sentence. Brandt grinned brightly.

"Of course... We're not like those other stuffy families that have barriers between us... We love each other, and that's natural and wonderful. I love you, Deke. I'm so proud of you, and I want you to feel the deep love I have for you." Brandt whispered. Deke shivered, pressing his lithe body against his dad's bigger physique. Despite how much he had grown, Brandt still felt that connection he'd had growing up. They hadn't drifted apart, they were together.

"I love you too, daddy. I want to feel you deep inside of me... my hole feels so warm and tingly..." he murmured, climbing over his dad's chest, his tongue emerging from his mouth to give a lick to one of Brandt's rock-hard nipples. "Your skin tastes so good, daddy..."

Brandt moaned out loud at that, feeling a strange electric charge through his chest. He reached up, fingers catching in Deke's shaggy, lustrous, wonderful hair. Brandt had wished he'd been able to represent himself like Deke when he'd been eighteen, to take on whatever style he wanted... but Deke had that chance. Deke could be whatever he wanted to be... Brandt moaned and growled, loving having his son close like that. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't fight it because it felt so right. It was what they were meant to do. They were males, and it was mating season.

Deke kept licking and suckling his father's fat nipple, leaving any hesitation behind and picking up more bravado and confidence as time passed. With each slurp, it was as if Deke was gaining more maturity and strength from his father. His wavy hair surged out, now almost completely covering his eyes from view. The hair on his chin thickened as well, starting out brown but slowly taking on a dark grey sheen to it. It followed the curve of his chin, edging out centimeter by centimeter until it was a distinct crest. When he stopped nursing on Brandt's manly tit, he even grinned before leaning forward and licking the side of his father's face.

"Fuck me, daddy... fuck me hard..." he murmured in a sultry tone directly into Brandt's ear. Brandt gave a soft growl at that before he got up, slipping around until Deke was pressed into the bed. Brandt leaned down to sniff his son's hair, his neck, even to kiss his shoulders. He ran a hand across the eighteen year old's hairy, almost furry body with appreciation. This was the being he had created and nurtured and now he was a man, just like his father.

Brandt reached down, freeing his engorged, achingly hard member. It throbbed with a life of its own, standing erect and proud, fuller than Brandt had ever seen it... but it was built for this moment. He traced it down along Deke's furry ass cheeks, feeling how pert and muscular they were. It was enough to make him shudder, and as he did, a hot jet of thick, sticky, clear pre sprayed out, webbing between Deke's cheeks, sinking down to his tingling hole to let him know what was about to happen. The boy groaned, his back arching a bit, his lips parting and showing canines that definitely looked an inch or two too long to belong to a normal human... but then again, both he and Brandt were far from a normal father and son anyway.

"I want to feel it press against my hole, daddy," Deke panted. "B-being a virgin sucks, daddy... I want to have sex! And I want you to be the one who turns me into a real man."

"Just as it should be..." Brandt whispered, leaning down to kiss his son's ear. He brought the head of his thick, meaty cock to Deke's hole. With just a bit of work, he smeared his pre across it, giving Deke as much protection as he could before he started to push in. He stretched his son's pucker wide, working him open little by little until finally Brandt was able to start pushing in. He was gentle at first, but Deke was so hot and ready and willing that it was hard for Brandt to hold back. His younger son groaned, pointy teeth sinking into much puffier lips than before.

"F-fuck, daddy, it hurts so much... don't stop..." he pleaded, trapped in an endless loop of pleasure and pain that was quickly frying his brain and any possible inhibition left in it, turning him into a perverted, horny slut. He even started pawing at his own erect dick, which felt impossibly warm under his trembling fingers. Brandt held himself up with one arm, the other rubbing Deke's furry hip.

Three inches, then five, then more. Brandt pistoned in and out of Deke's ass, feeling his son adjust and shift, able to take more and more of him. Brandt felt a huge surge of adrenaline rip through his body. He could smell their scents filling the room, the smells of mating, of sex, of family. He groaned hard, even leaning to lick at Deke's neck, his tongue tingling as it brushed across the soft fuzz there. Brandt's hand slipped down around Deke's hip, finding his son's hand on his member. Brandt knew that was another thing he could teach his son.

With a tightening grip, he started to glide his hand up and down Deke's dick as they fucked. He let his thumb tease the veins, the nerves, feeling how long Deke was... He might not have had his daddy's girth yet, but he was certainly becoming a man in his own right. Brandt kept going, striking deeper, growling and shuddering. He nuzzled his face into Deke's mane, unaware at first that the brown was turning to a gunmetal grey, contrasting against his skin and giving him a look that was like no other. Deke was drooling from the corner of his mouth, his words replaced with animalistic moans and grunts, his eyes now completely obscured by a curtain of hair.

"F-fuck... daddy..." he managed to murmur as Brandt destroyed his virgin hole. His long, slender dick was spurting volley after volley of thick, greyish precum that trickled down and soaked into his dad's fingers, making them tingle and pulsate. Brandt kept going, unable to find words. He thrust ten inches into his son's ass, then twelve. He reamed Deke, but Deke was getting better and better at taking it. His spine popped as it stretched longer, adding on inch after inch. Even Deke's neck lengthened, lifting his head to a more regal height.

The drool pouring from Deke's lips soaked the tuft of hair hanging down from his chin as it extruded out from his face, dropping down four inches, then six. Even the thick pelt of hair covering Deke's body was darkening, turning to the unearthly grey across his arms and legs and even darker on his chest, turning pitch black. His nipples darkened, as did the flesh on his impressive length.

Even seeing the changes in Deke, Brandt couldn't get himself to stop. He felt amazing. He was making his son a man, a better man. Brandt growled out, thrusting in until his balls slapped Deke's taint. He hilted himself into Deke time after time, the sounds of their love making crude and sloppy. Brandt's fingers dug into the soaked mattress, his other hand flying back and forth. It all washed over him like a relentless ocean with wave after wave until it was too much to take.

"DEKE!" Brandt roared, throwing his head back as he came hard. A few spurts of human cum erupted into his son's ass, but soon it was thickening, becoming hotter and sticker, darkening to a greyish sap-like consistency that was churned by the heavy meat pushing into the hole. Brandt moaned hard, covered in sweat, shuddering with bliss.

Brandt felt the urge to slow down, to cuddle his son, but he couldn't stop himself. He kept going, sliding back and forth, hearing the wet and sloppy sounds as his cock went in and out. He'd coaxed Deke towards becoming a Krampus, but it seemed that pent up energy was pooling back into him now. With each thrust, Brandt felt himself getting heavier and thicker. His muscles were tightening, his legs were thickening, and he felt a tingling across his cheeks as the stubble he'd been growing out began to thicken and darken, framing his face. It curled and stretched outward centimeter by centimeter.

"Fuck yeah, daddy, breed me!" his son cried, tears rolling down his cheeks as the most powerful orgasm he had ever experienced in his eighteen years of life shook him to his very core. A couple volleys of the last human cum splattered all over Deke's chest and Brandt's shoulders, immediately followed by darker, thicker, spicier grey semen. The boy panted, and the hair covering his eyes made him look like a big, shaggy, horny dog. "We need to fuck Bryce tomorrow, dad... too bad he's crashing at his friend's house tonight, or I would have definitely asked him to let me plow his ass..."

"I love the way you think. You're such a good boy... But that just means you can sleep in my bed tonight so you won't get lonely." Brandt growled, reaching to pet his son's goatee, getting some of their combined cum in it. Deke grinned back, pleased by the attention he was receiving from his father and lover, embracing it all.

"I dunno if I want to sleep yet, daddy... I still feel so horny and full of energy... care to go for round two? This time I can top you, if you want!" he said, his voice full of excitable, charming exuberance. Deke chuckled at that.

"Round two, round three, I'm game... And lets give you the right education, teach you how to do it all. You'll be as good as your dad in no time." Brandt said proudly.

****

The snow fell in small, delicate flakes on the icy evening air. The sun had long since set and it was only the network of neighborhood Christmas lights that offered any light, but it was enough to illuminate the blankets of white covering the yards, the snowmen frozen in place, and the freshly salted streets. It would have been a picture perfect Christmas for most people, but for Bryce it felt a bit off. It was strange how just a few years made all the difference in context. When Bryce had been growing up, he'd gone on plenty of sleep overs, but now that he was nineteen, it was more a case of crashing on a friend's couch. That being said, it was hard not to feel nostalgic.

He was on the second floor of his best friend's house, a bed made up for him with a window ringed on the outside with Christmas lights. The haze of rainbow colors gave a warmth to the otherwise cold view of the outside. More Christmas lights had been strung up across the sloped ceiling of the bedroom, making it almost seem as if the young men would be sleeping in a Christmas tree. The tiny twinkling lights glinted off of the baubles and decor that lined the shelves around the room like ornaments.

Bryce sighed, his eyes lost somewhere outside the window of the bedroom: snow on snow, white on white, reflecting all the iridescent lights decorating the house, creating a mesmerizing, and yet somewhat disquieting kaleidoscope.The nineteen year old wasn't sure what to think, he wasn't even sure if he really wanted to be there in the first place... but he knew he had to stay away from his house, even if just for one night.

"I feel so dumb..." Bryce grumbled, shaking his head. He couldn't bear the idea of being home, despite the fact that he loved his dad and his younger brother to bits... and yet, he could feel - somewhere deep inside him - that something was wrong, even though he had no idea what exactly was different. His family home was the same, and at the same time it wasn't, as if every object inside of it had been moved an inch to the right by some unknown hand.

The door to the bedroom opened without warning as the room's true occupant returned. Jonas was only four months younger than Bryce and the two had grown up side by side - the peril and benefit of having fathers that worked together. Jonas was five foot ten, a bit skinny, his skin a light mocha color. He kept his hair short, though he never dared to shave it clean like his dad did. He'd tried to grow sideburns as well, but they hadn't really wanted to come in.

Jonas was oblivious to Bryce being startled at his return, focused instead on balancing the plate of Christmas cookies and the two mugs of cocoa as he brought them down to rest on the table between the two beds. Jonas smiled with satisfaction at getting the food to its destination without incident.

"So, what do you feel like? Are you in more of a Santa Clause kind of mood, or Die Hard kind of mood?" Jason asked as he settled on his bed, looking over at his friend. Bryce groaned.

"Come on, dude, we have watched those two movies every year since we were both wearing diapers!" he replied before grabbing a cookie and munching on it, feeling the chocolate chips melting against his tongue. "Well, okay, maybe not Die Hard." Jonas smiled, used to Bryce's contrarian mood. He moved over to the drawer under his bed and pulled it open, revealing a library of movie cases. He ran his finger down the spines as if trying to select the right ancient tome.

"I guess I just get caught up in the tradition... But maybe it's time for something new." Jonas said before looking up, though he finally noticed how distracted his friend was. Jonas wrinkled his nose a little in thought before he spoke, "What's up? You look like you're a hundred miles away." Bryce massaged the bridge of his nose, a crooked smile on his face showing the dimples he had inherited from his late mother.

"Wow, man, it's that obvious?" his hand went down, caressing the sparse stubble on his chin. "It's just... I dunno. Guess I'm not feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Everything feels so... cold, and distant, and weird despite being exactly the same." The young man grabbed the cocoa mug and took a short sip before sighing, somewhat content. "But this, and the cookies, and you... these are good things, and I'm glad I'm here." Jonas maneuvered himself onto his bed, stretching his legs out over the open drawer.

"I guess... we're at that age." he began, "We're out of school, we've been sort of drifting for a bit. We're pretty much adults, but we're still hanging onto our youth. We're figuring out who we are, what we like, what we yearn for. That sort of shit is scary. It wears you out... But we all go through it I guess." Bryce felt his eyes getting a bit watery, so he batted his eyelids a couple of times to drive away the tears.

"Ever the philosopher, huh? But yeah... I think you are right. I just, I dunno... feel paranoid, I guess. Nothing has been the same since my mother, you know..." he sighed, taking another, longer, sip of cocoa, before munching on another chocolate chip cookie. "But yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to vent. We are here to have fun, right?" Jonas grabbed a cookie and nibbled on it curiously.

"I mean... Yeah, but if we need to go deeper, we can. I just want to make sure you're okay. You like bottling stuff up, but with everything changing you might need to grease the wheels." Jonas said sagely. Bryce bit his lip.

"Well, I'm not sure what I have bottled up. It's just... some vague sensation of uneasiness. I feel so unfulfilled, and sometimes I feel guilty because..." Bryce almost bit his tongue; no, he couldn't go there. He had never told anyone his dirty little secret, not even to Jonas. "I m-mean, I feel guilty because I don't know what to do to solve whatever problem is there. It's like chasing ghosts with a butterfly net."

"Well... at least with a net, you're trying." Jonas smiled before his eyes widened brightly, "Oh! Isn't one of those Ghostbuster movies about Christmas and the new year? We could watch that one!" Jonas offered.

"Sure! It's been ages since I watched one of those!" Bryce exclaimed, trying to force himself to cheer up... and the cocoa, the cookies and the enthusiasm that radiated from Jonas didn't make it difficult. He even found himself enjoying the 80s flick - though not as much as Jonas, who was so engrossed by the movie he barely paid any attention to the rest of the world - or at least he did until his eyes, once again, wandered towards the window on his left and the snowy field out there.

Standing at the far edge of the white space, almost indistinguishable against the backdrop of the December night, a tall, crouched figure seemed to turn his massive, horned head towards him, burning eyes flickering with madness and malice; the monstrous silhouette extended a muscular arm, the movement of his clawed fingers beckoning Bryce to come closer. You are mine, that gesture said. You are mine. Then, Bryce closed his eyes as his body shivered, and when he reopened them, whatever was out there - quite definitely just a trick of his overactive imagination - was gone, swallowed by the cold darkness.

****

The snow had stopped falling, the roads had been cleared and life was starting to churn once more. If it had been hard for Brandt to drag himself to work, it felt almost impossible now... but with great reluctance, he pushed through and made it across town. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he just needed a chance to clear his head, to look at things objectively, to get back to work... Maybe that would remind him of his humanity, of what he was risking... The lock seemed to resist his key at first, but finally the door gave way and Brandt moved into the back of the garage. It only took a few steps for him to realize that the air inside was just as cold as outside.

"Fuckin' A..." Brandt muttered, seeing his breath in the air as he moved around to start turning on the heaters. With a flick of the knob, the elements started to come back to life. At first the metal clicked and popped before it eventually warmed up enough to start turning red. He made his way around, making sure they were all on before he booted the diagnostic computer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brandt spotted movement on the sales floor. Mike moved out through the side door, wearing gloves and a beanie over his bare head.

"Hey man, it's freezing out here... You should come in for some coffee." Mike offered. Brandt looked up skeptically.

"It won't warm up out here without the heaters being on." he shot back. Mike chuckled.

"I guess that's true... Maybe I was going to go for two cups before... Besides, Christmas came early. We've got new jumpsuits." Mike said, pointing to the wall. Brandt turned and hesitated, seeing the jumpsuits hung up on the hooks.

The new uniforms were a sleek black with several support straps around the legs and torso. They were functional and utilitarian, but something about them seemed almost too edgy somehow. Brandt moved over and reached up to check the size of the jumpsuit before he froze, realizing that the name tag appeared to be emblazoned on an oval of birch bark. Brandt looked back at Mike.

"Did the boss get these?" Brandt asked quickly. Mike's brow furrowed a bit.

"I asked him. He said he didn't know anything about them. They were just waiting here when he came in, but the company logo's official. They're legit." Mike said, sipping his coffee. Brandt said nothing for a long moment before he forced a smile, trying to reassure Mike.

"Maybe they just realized we could use some new threads with how hard we've been working." Brandt said. Mike grinned at that and nodded.

"Damn straight." he added before he set his coffee down and moved to help turning on the equipment and getting ready for the day. Brandt looked back at the jumpsuit with his name on it. It was sleek, it was dark, and it was way wider than his old one. He wanted to believe it was too big, but he had a feeling that if he put it on, it'd fit better than anything he'd ever worn before. Whatever the Krampus was up to, it seemed he had a plan for every part of Brandt's life.

Looking over at Mike and then back at the jumpsuit, Brandt realized that there was no point in fighting... not now, not here. His life was on the line, in the hands of his sons. If they didn't save him, they'd have ordinary lives. If they did, they'd be condemned along with him. Somehow, Brandt didn't want to test the patience of the Krampus in case he felt like tipping the scales even further.

"I'm going to see if this thing even fits." Brandt muttered to Mike as he carried the jumpsuit over to the service bathroom, pushing his way in. Despite being cramped, the bathroom was rather nice and had the added benefit of being for employees only. The downside was that it had been cobbled together with discordant pieces at discount and the beige walls didn't really agree with the dark tan speckled counter or the reddish brown partitions that segmented off the stall.

With a hasty double check that the bathroom was locked, Brandt looked at the mirror before he slowly started unzipping his old dark blue coveralls, revealing inch after inch of dark hairy chest. The fabric pulled back, revealing his thickening pectorals, his hardening abs, and his large, dark, swollen, sensitive nipples. Just looking at them reminded Brandt of how hot Deke's lips were on them, and just what they had done to him.

"Fuck... Stop it, not here." Brandt muttered to himself. He kicked off his boots and pulled the coveralls down, slipping them over his sculpted ass. As the fabric pressed in, he felt a sore spot, almost like he had bruised his tailbone - but as the pain stung, the sensitive flesh responded by wiggling. Brandt felt his stomach sink before he turned, looking at a raised tent in the ass of his underwear, flicking back and forth. He had a tail...

Brandt muttered to himself, trying not to think about it. He practically had to peel the old jumpsuit off of himself, watching it slip away from his swollen, distended groin and down his thicker, hairier, beastly legs. Even his feet had a hard time sliding up the pant legs, but with some effort he got his foot out and it came down onto the tile floor, making a hard click as tough keratin hit. Brandt paused and looked down, seeing that his socks had stretched and warped over fused toes, his feet nowhere near as long as they had been but taking up much more space in diameter.

"No, no..." Brandt whispered before he looked up at the mirror, seeing the Krampus behind him in his reflection. He spun around and saw no one, but he fell back against the counter, wincing as his tail got squished. He let out a sound - or more accurately a bleat, nearly falling against the stall before a hand shot out to stop himself. He panted, sweating, looking up at his hand after a moment. His arm hair had crept down across the back of his hand, his nails had turned a dark black, and even his skin seemed darker somehow as if it had been tainted.

"You know what you owe me, Brandt. You know what has to be done... Not just for your family, but for all of those that are out there." The Krampus' voice whispered in Brandt's ears, so close he could feel the heat and moisture from that long tongue. Brandt kept his eyes shut, but in his mind he could remember clearly now. He remembered everything that he had forgotten, begging the Krampus, pleading... and getting something in turn.

His altered hand slipped out to touch the new jumpsuit, his fingernails as black as the fabric on the sleek garb. He felt how strong and tough the straps were, how heavy the metal on the zipper and the pocket fasteners was. He lifted it up and grabbed a hold, drawing the zipper down to open it up. The uniform split open, revealing a fur lined interior. Brandt's heart was racing. He knew he shouldn't put it on, that he should resist, but it looked so welcoming, so comfortable, so soft...

Brandt reached out and brushed his hand across it, feeling the soft, velvety fur against his skin. It was the softest thing he had ever felt in his life. Just touching it sent an electric thrill through his system. Brandt bit his bottom lip before he turned, dropping one leg down into the lower portion. He felt it glide up across his skin like a smooth summer's breeze. A shift of his hips and the other leg followed suit, dropping down. He took hold of the uniform's waist and drew it up.

What had been an irritating, painful throbbing in his backside immediately calmed as the jumpsuit slipped up over his ass. His right arm dropped inside first, followed by his left. It came down to rest across his broad shoulders like a vestment. His cock had hardened, sticking out at full mast, but Brandt was too lost in the moment. He carefully pulled the jumpsuit out well clear of his package and zipped up. The black fabric came together, hugging his stomach and chest, pulling the fur lining over his shoulders.

As the zipper reached Brandt's neck, he felt the collar brushing against stubble on his neck that had not been there before, but the whole thing felt so tight, so fit, so soft. It was like being wrapped in a dream or a fond memory. He turned to look at the mirror, feeling his heart racing again. The black was more than crisp, it was fine. The straps looked like some sort of harness built into the suit, and the way it contoured was... changing.

Brandt didn't realize it at first, but the fabric was shifting across his body. The way it cupped and held, the way it showed off his curves, even the way it held his package... all at once it began to contort, tightening at first before it expanded again, but it was expanding Brandt along with it. The mechanic grabbed onto the counter, grunting sharply, baring his teeth - teeth that were sharpening. He moaned, fingernails stretching longer, ears pushing into points.

Hot breath became hotter, Brandt's moans becoming muffled and distorted as his tongue started to swell. With each breath, the mechanic's chest rose and filled, but it never came back down. His shoulders ached and throbbed before audible popping and snapping echoed through his spine, traveling up into his skull. Brandt howled out as his ribs pushed apart from one another, increasing the distance between them before his entire rib cage rounded outward.

Brandt's moans deepened with each passing second. His legs slid further apart, his balls started to hang lower, his mutated feet grew wider and rounder and firmer as his toes fused and the keratin thickened into more of a bony like covering. The father of two had stacked on dozens of pounds in moments, but there seemed to be no sign of that slowing. If it hadn't been for the strange, mysterious jumpsuit, he would have torn right through it as his torso nearly doubled in width.

Every centimeter of his skin was burning and tingling. Brandt's chest felt like he had two prime slabs of meat, his stomach was firm and hard. His back was wider than any human had a right to be, and his arms were as thick as logs. The cramped bathroom felt almost as tight as Brandt's uniform itself, but then in one unifying moment, it all turned into a single sensation of blinding, searing, incomprehensible light.

The shifting stopped, the changing ceased. Brandt opened an eye, then the other, looking out at the mirror, barely recognizing himself. Standing before him was a six foot tall, five hundred pound beast of a man. He looked as wide as he was tall, his huge black jumpsuit barely containing his manly attributes. His hair had grown longer, inching down all the way to his neck, shaggy and unkempt. His stubble had pushed out into a short burly beard and his skin was several shades darker.

Brandt reached up, running a finger under his eye, testing the dark rings that were there. They didn't feel puffy like sleep, it was the skin itself that was changing. He even traced his fingers across his cheeks, up to the point in his ear. It was unnatural, unearthly, inhuman... it was just like a Krampus. Brandt opened his mouth and let his tongue slip out... then out further. It extended almost four inches past his lips before he snapped it back.

There was stillness in the bathroom. Brandt stood there, looking at himself for a long moment. He gave his scruff a pet, then brushed his longer hair back over the shoulders of his jumpsuit. He blinked a few times before he grinned a little wider. Maybe there was no point in doubting or worrying. He had only two fates, after all... He'd become a Krampus, or he'd die. If he was going to die, why spend his last few days worrying?

A clawed hand slipped down to give his swollen, protruding bulge a good squeeze before he unlocked the door and stepped out. The air still felt frigid to Brandt, but only where his exposed skin had contact. He felt a lot warmer in his jumpsuit, covered in fur, radiating his own warmth. It took him a few steps before he realized he had forgotten his boots, but his new hooves slowly tore through the socks before they burst out, as wide as dinner plates.

Brandt crossed the garage, closing the distance, moving up behind Mike. He'd made it nearly all the way to his coworker when he turned around with a smile before pausing, looking Mike over head to toe. His eyes narrowed a bit in concern, concentration, and then ultimately a resolution. He nodded a bit to himself before he moved over, reached up and tugged Brandt's zipper down an inch and a half from his collar.

"There, now you don't look too stuffy. Looks like it fits good. How does it feel?" Mike asked, apparently unaware of the changes to his coworker. As far as he could tell, Brandt looked like he always had. Brandt slowly smiled, revealing sharper teeth and eyes that glinted with a supernatural coldness.

"Fits like a glove... I think I was born to wear this." Brandt murmured. Mike clicked with his tongue before shaking his head.

"Damn, now I gotta try mine on too. Can't get left out." he chuckled, heading over to grab his off the hook. Brandt watched him go, making sure he'd gone all the way into the bathroom and locked the door. Even then, the mechanic gave his co-worker another second before he reached up and took hold of his zipper, drawing it down more. The jumpsuit opened up to reveal a chest covered in thick, jet black fur. The only points of flesh were the smoke grey nipples poking out of it, swollen and full and ready to be milked.

Brandt unzipped his jumpsuit down across his black fur covered belly, then all the way down to his groin. He reached in with a clawed hand to withdraw his shaft, unfurling ten inches, then fourteen, then eighteen. His shaft was as thick as a fist, the veins throbbing, the flesh as dark as steel. His clawed hand wrapped around it, giving it a long, full, fast stroke. He moved his hand faster, harder, deeper, imagining that he was using that rod, that he was doing what nature did, that he was fucking with it, that it was being sucked... that they were celebrating the winter and everything they had accomplished.

The mutated mechanic threw his head back, hissing through sharpened teeth, his abnormally long tongue slipping out of his lips as he started to cum and cum hard. Ropes of jism shot out across the garage floor, splattering across the cement. It was potent stuff, filling the air with the smell of manly sperm in seconds... but Brandt knew he was capable of so much more now. He wasn't just turning into a Krampus, he was becoming Father Krampus... he'd lead his sons into the new family business, and they'd never be parted again.

****

Christmas eve had come at last. The house was still and quiet, a monument to the holiday season. The Christmas tree glowed brightly, the tinsel shining, the gifts carefully wrapped beneath the boughs. Stockings hung from the mantle, emblazoned with names in glitter from years gone by. The trees outside were caked with frost and snow, icicles hanging down like nature's ornamentation. The house was warm and welcoming as Bryce made it back inside, though something felt a bit off, a bit different. It was too still, too quiet.

"Hey? Anyone... anyone here?" the young man asked, his voice bouncing fruitlessly through the rooms of the quiet house. "Dad? Deke?" No answer. "What the..." Where could they have gone? His father definitely didn't work, not on Christmas eve, and Deke spent almost all his free time playing with his video games... he would have never gone outside in the snow unless he was forced to.

It didn't take long for Bryce to notice the other change in the room - a very large present beneath the tree that had not been there before he left. Unlike the other presents, the paper wrapped around it was a dark obsidian black with a black ribbon wrapped around the length and width. A piece of the wrapping paper had been fastened to the ribbon with twine and folded over to make a name tag. It stood out from the others, almost like a beacon, drawing his attention. Furrowing his brow, Bryce took a step or two closer, crouching down to grab the name tag and see what was written on it.

Merry Christmas eve, Bryce. Open it. Two simple sentences, innocent even, and yet they sent a chilling shiver down his spine. "What the hell?" he murmured. Was that a joke? His father wasn't the kind of guy to pull pranks, and it seemed too elaborate to be something devised by Deke. "Might as well..." he said to himself, pulling the silky black ribbon, and then - with cold, trembling fingers - lifting the lid of the big mysterious box.

Of all the gifts Bryce had ever received, of all the gifts he could have imagined getting, nothing was remotely close to what was inside... An aroma escaped as he opened the gift, a smell Bryce had coveted and dreamed of. The contents were a rich, deep, mesmerizing black just like the package but crafted of the most carefully tailored and preserved leather. There were several layers inside, several garments, each one created out of the same material. It was an entire outfit, one that had come from the darkest and most private corners of Bryce's soul. The lid of the box fell on the floor with a soft thud, as the young man looked at the contents of the mysterious box with a mixture or horror, bewilderment and arousal in equal parts.

"How... who..." he murmured, his lips and tongue feeling almost unresponsive. Nobody was supposed to know! He had kept it hidden to everyone, he had always deleted his Internet history and made sure to cover any possible tracks! Not to mention the fact that the value of all that leather gear had to be in the thousands of dollars!

"Any good father should know what his son really wants, right?" Brandt asked, or at least a voice very similar to his. It sounded as cool and strong as the leather before Bryce, but laying eyes on his father gave that unnerving feeling that reality had been nudged and manipulated. Brandt was taking up the width of the hallway with his muscles, his jumpsuit shifted and contorted around a body worthy of a beast. His hair was long, his beard had filled out. His eyes glowed with a supernatural power and his skin seemed darker somehow, and yet, in the forefront of his mind, Bryce still saw his father.

"D-dad?" he murmured, squeezing his eyes. It was definitely him, and at the same time, there was something different and impossible to pinpoint, like a tumultuous aura around his body. "Why didn't you answer when I called for you? A-and..." his trembling hand gestured towards the box full of leather. "What does this mean? I don't... understand." Except of course he did understand.

Since his highschool years, he had developed a weird, borderline fetishistic fascination for people - especially, but not limited to, men - wearing form-fitting leather outfits. He loved to imagine the smell, the sensation of leather against skin, the idea of his entire body being wrapped in a sexy cocoon of shiny blackness, how badass that would feel... that very train of thought was usually enough to allow him to climax and reach a powerful orgasm. "Seriously, is this a joke or something? Because if it is, it's not funny, okay?"

"This is no joke..." Brandt murmured, moving forward, hooves sinking into the living room carpet. He approached, feeling his son's confusion and wounded pride, his conflicted emotions all broiling, "I wanted to celebrate what makes you unique, what brings you joy. It's nothing to shrug off. It's a manly pursuit, and my son has grown into a man, just like his father. It is time for you to embrace whatever makes you feel good. It's my job as your father to make sure you can, after all... You are mine." Brandt said with power, only inches away from Bryce now.

"He's right, you know!" a cheerful voice, dripping with lust, followed, before Deke stepped into the living room too. The boy had seemingly gained a whole foot in height overnight, and his messy brown hair looked to be gray in the cold light of that Winter morning, falling down over his eyes in a curtain. With a big, toothy grin that exposed long, pointy canines, Deke walked towards his father and caressed his arm, glancing at him with hungry eyes. "You'll feel so good after you try those on! Right, daddy?" Brandt murmured at his son's touch, remembering the beastly delights that they had shared, but there would be time for more of that. They had to focus on his other son.

"You just have to be yourself, Bryce, that's all I ever wanted for you... It's what you wanted too, right? To feel that tight leather on your body, to show off to the world that you have this confidence and strength, that you're this handsome man that can do anything?" Brandt asked. The words flowed out of him without restraint. There was no doubt in his mind anymore. He was becoming a Krampus and taking his sons with him.

Bryce gulped, his eyes once again darting towards the big black box and its enticing content; he was so close to what he had always dreamed about, his dirty little secret he had never told anyone... but if his father agreed, why should he hesitate? There was nothing wrong in indulging in something like that, right? Nobody was going to get hurt, after all...

"N-no..." he murmured, weakly. "I mean, yes, that's something I want, but... this is still wrong! What's wrong with the two of you? Dad, Deke... what's happening to y..." Bryce blinked. The uneasiness, the weird feelings plaguing him... what if it was all connected? "What's happening to us, dad?" Brandt shifted a bit at that a little, breaking eye contact for a moment.

"Sometimes... the sins of the father are passed on to his sons. Obligations, duties, expectations... A long time ago, to try and save Deke, to try and... save myself, I opened myself up to something. But this obligation doesn't have to be a burden, it can be a gift. Your brother and I are so much closer now, with each other and with ourselves... We're true to ourselves. No secrets." Brandt said, looking right at Bryce. His firstborn son, however, furrowed his brow.

"What... does that even mean, dad?!" an unpleasant shiver travelled through the upper half of his body. "Sins of the father? Obligations? You and Deke becoming... closer?" The shudder wrapped around his legs like a snake made of ice. "You aren't making any sense!" Deke smiled, a big goofy grin, as he leaned his head against the muscular shoulder of his father in an almost... sensual way.

"Looks like it makes sense to you big bro, why are you undressing yourself"

"W-wait, what do you...?" Bryce looked down to his body and gasped, stunned and eyes opened wide. His jeans, his coat, his sweater and his shirt laid on the floor, strewn about like colorful piles of wrapping paper. The only pieces of clothing he had on were his socks and underwear. "W-what... when... how...?" Brandt had watched his son take off his clothes without realizing it, casting them aside as they talked. Something about it struck him deeply, shaking loose what remnants of humanity were left inside him. He couldn't just push him into this, he had to give his son a chance... a choice.

"It was all you, what you wanted deep down, what you denied yourself. But it's more than that too. You have a choice to make... A hard one, but you're an adult now." Brandt said, shaking his head softly, "I... My life depended on embracing this change, being a part of this. You can turn away, you can live however you want... but I want you to know what's on the table." he said softly. Bryce wrapped his arms around his chest, shivering. His father sounded so weird, and yet... oddly sincere.

"What... what do you mean? What's on the table?" he asked in an inquisitive tone. Brandt took a breath and moved closer, reaching out to rest his hand on Bryce's shoulder. As he did, the house faded away, revealing the snow-covered birch grove. The transition was fantastic and magical, and yet somehow it didn't startle Bryce. It felt comfortable and familiar. Deke was a few feet away, snow landing in his gunmetal grey hair and clinging to his long fluffy goatee.

"When I was young, I begged for my life... and a spirit answered. When Deke was being born, and we lost your mother, and we were about to lose him... I begged for his life as well. And then... the other day... I almost died on the way home from work in that snow. The spirit reached out to me, it saved us, but it... wanted something in exchange, for us to help it, to join it." Brandt said.

"Okay, and what does that have to do with me?" Bryce replied, his eyes narrowed. Brandt's face tightened as well, before relaxing a little. His son did have a point, even if it was a bit narrow. Brandt shrugged a bit.

"How you want your life to unfold is entirely up to you; whether you want to stay with your family, or start out a fresh path, one that belongs only to you." he replied before wincing. Brandt felt a sudden pang of pain in his chest, his teeth sinking in his lower lip. The Krampus had made the terms clear, what would happen if the price was not paid... but he owed Bryce the chance.

"So, should I... choose to leave and not accept the gift? I won't be able to see you anymore, dad? Deke, too?" he asked, sounding suddenly much younger and more vulnerable than before. Brandt looked back at Deke and gave a soft smile, feeling a small gut feeling.

"I think Deke will be fine, either way... You'll have your brother. I'm just not sure about me. I've... had a good life. I raised two good sons. That could be enough." Brandt said. Bryce shook his head.

"The choice seems pretty clear, then. I don't want to lose you, dad, but I don't want to lose myself either. Even if we join this..." His mind went back to the night before, to the ominous shadow tempting him from the white darkness of the snowy field, "This spirit... Will I still be me? I don't want to forget Jonas, and our lives, and... the memories I have of you and Deke. I can't bear to lose them."

"You will always have your memories, and-" Brandt paused, his brows furrowing a little. He thought back to encountering the Krampus, to the times he'd needed him, even to the research he had done. It was hard to put his finger on it, but he felt a growing sense of confidence as if he had the inside scoop on how things worked. He smiled a little, "And it's more of a seasonal job. The Krampus is a winter spirit, around Christmas time, making sure that the well behaved children are rewarded, and the ones that aren't... well, that they make up for it. It wouldn't be forever, it wouldn't be the rest of our lives." Bryce chuckled.

"The Krampus? Come on, dad, that's a..." A fairytale to scare kids, he was going to say, but then again whatever was happening to the three of them was definitely supernatural. No point in doubting that something like the Krampus could exist in the world. "Okay, point taken." He looked at the box near his feet, once again. "Do I just have to... wear those?" He couldn't help but feel his manhood awakening inside his underwear at the prospect. "Or is there anything else I should do?" Deke took a step closer to his sibling, his hand caressing Bryce's shoulder with strong fingers.

"Oh, you are going to love it, big bro... It feels so good!" he whispered in a sultry tone, his grin stretching from ear to ear. Brandt smiled as well, revealing his sharpened teeth.

"You make it your own, however you want to do it. Just give me the gift of being happy, son." Brandt said warmly. Bryce gave him a timid smile, lingering in the moment before his resolve hardened and he took off the rest of his clothes, standing naked in front of his family - although the last shred of modesty still forced him to cover his package with one of his hands.

"O-okay..." Bryce grabbed the first item from the box with trembling fingers: it was a jockstrap, the leather of the removable codpiece shiny and buttery and so alluring to the touch... for a moment, Bryce toyed with the idea of burying his face into it and breathing deeply, letting the intoxicating scent invade his brain. He slipped one leg inside, then the other, and finally let the elastic band snap into place. "O-oh, damn..." he moaned, feeling the leather cup adjust around his growing erection, as if a multitude of microscopic fingers were caressing his sensitive dick.

"Quality stuff, but you always did have good taste." Brandt said, moving to massage his son's shoulders. Bryce shivered at his father's touch, and his dick seemed to grow even bigger in his brand new jockstrap... even bigger than it had ever been.

"T-thanks, dad..." he murmured, before grabbing a pair of fingerless biker gloves and slipping them on his hands, flexing his palms and feeling the leather against his skin. His brain barely registered any surprise when his nails darkened and honed into points, growing to become sharp claws; if anything, Bryce said to himself with a small smile, they made him look even more badass.

"Time for this one, now!" Deke, ever the pleaser, wrapped a thick, heavy harness around his brother's torso, making sure all the leather straps were properly fastened. "Just let yourself go, big bro..." the eighteen year old murmured in Bryce's ear before licking its tip, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"That's right, isn't it? You're going to be such a big bro as you grow and grow..." Brandt said, kissing Bryce's neck, petting his hair, watching it darken from brown to almost black. Bryce groaned, his father's lips like fire against his skin. He knew he was wrong, but how could something so wrong feel that good?

"Dad..." he managed to murmur before another lusty moan escaped from his lips: Deke had started nibbling the delicate skin of his shoulder, his tongue coating it in dense saliva that made the area tingle like crazy. "Oh, fuck..."

"What a big, big boy you are..." Brandt repeated, his hand sliding down Bryce's back, watching as black pigment spilled out from the harness, sinking into his skin as soft fur started to sprout. Brandt reached down, caressing the nub on Bryce's tailbone that started to grow out longer and thicker, twitching, flicking, growing out into a full goat tail. Bryce couldn't see it, but could definitely feel the corruptive nature of the jockstrap having an effect on his hole too: the pink ring of skin, nestled between his perky ass cheeks, was puffing up and becoming darker, turning into a thick donut of black rubbery muscles that began to twitch and loosen up the more Brandt played with his new tail.

"P-please dad... dy. Daddy," Bryce repeated, the word sounding natural as it rolled on his thicker tongue. "I want your fingers... inside me, please." Brandt grinned at that, bringing his rough, calloused, clawed finger down, using the soft part to tease the puffy, swollen pucker, feeling how big it was getting. He rubbed more and more, feeling a sticky lube excreting from Bryce's ass. Tiny soft black fur erupted across his cheeks as they grew thicker and rounder, pulling apart to reveal the prize... the prize that Brandt granted his eldest son as he slid a long finger in, probing his depths.

Darkness swirled around Bryce, sinking into his flesh, his claws growing longer as his nipples darkened and his ears pointed, his head throbbing as something began to grow beneath the surface, lumps forming and swelling bigger. The change was contagious, striking Deke next as his forehead began to swell and ache.

"Daddy, something feels so weird..." the youngest son moaned, but the crazed smirk didn't leave his face as he rubbed the nubs on his forehead. It seemed as if he was enjoying the new feeling, lavishing in it. "I love the way it hurts..."

"Come close son, let me feel it too..." Brandt whispered, reaching around to grope at Bryce's leather jockstrap with one hand as it began to swell bigger, and tighter, and fuller. The elder son's bush turned to thick fur that began creeping down his legs. Bryce's spine popped as it stretched longer, his shoulders aching as they broadened. All three males felt their skin absorbing more light, more heat as it darkened, contrasting with the snow all around them. Even Brandt growled as his head ached and his skin got irritated and tight, stretching over points beneath the surface.

Brandt began working his finger back and forth, but it wasn't enough. He added a second to Bryce's hole, then a third, finger fucking him to get him ready. Bryce gave his dad a lustful smile as his teeth slowly evolved into a phalanx of deadly fangs, the last few feeble remnants of morality and decency turning into fine dust in his increasingly perverted mind. The light began to fade across the birch grove, the sky darkening to match the three beasts that inhabited it.

"Come on, daddy... you only have two fingers left... you know you want it..." Bryce murmured. "I think that's what we need to truly become one..." Brandt growled, his long, inhuman tongue slipping from his lips. The choice had been made. The price had been paid. He was going to be Father Krampus, and nothing would stop him. Brandt brought his last two fingers up, easing them in before his knuckles hit Bryce's swollen, stretched, supernatural pucker. With just a bit of pressure, the hand eased forward and popped inside of Bryce.

Brandt inhaled before he threw his head back, howling out as beads of blood appeared from his temples before horns erupted through the flesh. Black, ribbed bone pushed out from his skull, curving forward in a long, tall slope before jutting the other direction, thickening wider and wider as it angled back again. The horns kept pushing out of Brandt's skull, feeling like a strange, nearly orgasmic bliss as his body produced so much mass all at once.

The horns looked almost like dark lightning bolts with their angles and curves, rising up over a foot, then nearly two from Brandt's skull before they finally slowed and settled into place. Brandt's eyes had slipped shut as the horns emerged, but they slowly opened, glowing with an intense, rich gold on black sclera. The glint of gold also came from his pointed, stretched, animal ears as thick rings now adorned them. His thick, robust hair rested across his shoulders like a mane, his face framed by an unruly beard.

Every change that had been lurking at the edge of awareness was now plain as day. Brandt's flesh was a deep, dark grey and his fur was jet black. He was wider than a quarterback, his cock as thick as a human's arm. Brandt's face contorted into a look of pure bliss, but it popped and snapped as cartilage and bone reshaped, pushing his formerly human face out into a short muzzle. He was an animal, a beast, a creature of the night... and he wasn't alone.

Deke's horns had come out more violently, rushing up and out, rising as high as his father's had, but also angling back in sharp, dramatic points. A slight jingle came from tin bells hanging from a new collar around Deke's neck. His face pushed out into a new muzzle, inch by inch, making his long goatee stand out even more, contrasted by the fact that his now inhuman eyes were still covered by a curtain of grey hair. He was leaner than his father, but his long, dark abdomen glistened in the moonlight, his long krampus cock dripping with pre.

The change was potent and powerful, ripping through Brandt to his core. How could he have forgotten what his benefactor looked like? The being that had saved his life twice over and the life of his youngest son... His height, his strength, his natural splendor... and now Brandt was a krampus, Deke was a krampus... and Bryce was so close. He just needed a little more coaxing. Brandt withdrew his hand, slipping it out of his son. Bryce moaned at the change, feeling so satisfied and yet so empty at the same time. Brandt had no intention of leaving him longing.

With a guiding hand, Brandt hoisted his fat cock up, letting the broad head trace across Bryce's hungry hole. It was strange how a leather jockstrap accentuated the things it did not cover just as much as what it did. With one hand on Bryce's hip to hold him steady, Brandt began pushing in. Bryce was stretched wide, but his body had shifted to accommodate his father's tool. Inch by inch, Brandt started pushing in until he was about a third of the way down. He paused, pulled back, and then gave his son one good thrust.

A shock of energy swept through Bryce, the changes sinking into him. His chest darkened to a deep steel grey, his nipples black, all of it complementing the black leather harness around his shoulders. Even the metal ring at the center of his chest turned to black metal, hot and cold at the same time on his altered flesh. The wind and the snow blew against the black fur on Bryce's legs, his arm hair thickening and softening into a pelt to match.

Brandt grabbed onto Bryce's other hip, thrusting in and out, deeper and faster, grunting as his shaft delved deep into his eldest son. Each movement brought more power and strength into Bryce's body. His back popped and tingled as the vertebra grew larger. His ribs pushed apart a little, his back broadened, his pecs thickening, straining the harness. Brandt had become broad, Deke had become tall, but Bryce was becoming both. He rose up higher, his toes fusing together, his toenails rippling, thickening and spreading, covering his feet in the keratin coating of fresh hooves.

In all the organic changes, Bryce's jockstrap had changed too, slinging low and round and fat, holding a python that surpassed anything a human could sport. Bryce's hair grew out longer and wilder behind him, his chest hair becoming fur that spanned his shoulders and covered his back. A strip along his chin darkened as well, stubble pushing out and softening, growing longer with impressive speed. It felt so good to have the hair growing out like that.

Brandt huffed and hissed as he thrust, fucking his son, getting over fourteen inches into him with each move. He breathed heavily, causing Bryce's pointed, elongated ears to twitch and flick as the hot, moist air hit them. The narrow tuft of hair hanging from his chin continued to grow longer - rivaling Deke's in length, but not width.

The power surged through Bryce, the darkness sweeping around them as more parts of his wardrobe appeared. Leather bracers covered his forearms, a collar appeared around his neck, but so much of him was left bare. Bryce panted and growled, feeling the dark energy seeping through his superhuman body. He flexed his fingers of his disproportionate hands - his leather gloves having magically grown alongside them - and a smile full of fangs surfaced on his muzzle.

"Fuck, it feels so... good," he murmured, his voice much deeper and manlier than before, fitting his new and improved wickedness. He felt amazing, powerful and full of pride, as the leather caressing his thick fur and making his black skin tingle in erotic pleasure. His cock began dribbling vile pre from its elongated tip into the jockstrap before it slipped free of one side, and Deke licked his dark lips at the sight.

"It will feel even better once you have filled me, big bro!" he exclaimed, before positioning his muscular ass cheeks against his sibling's hard-on and pressing down, the dick effortlessly sliding into the warm, moist hole as if it had been created for that purpose alone... and considering who and what had reshaped the three of them, that possibility could very well be true.

"Oh, fuck yes!" Bryce shouted, his eyes rolling in the back of his skull. His dad was fucking his ass and he was balls deep into his little bro; old Bryce would have been revolted by the mere idea of that incestuous act, but new Bryce knew it was perfectly natural. It was family business, after all. Brandt growled, his unnaturally long tongue whipping out to slather across Bryce's neck and work its way up to his cheek, then his lips, teasing at them. The intimate contact was another flash of power and intimacy, pushing Bryce past the point of no return. He felt a pressure rushing up through his spine, collecting in his skull before it erupted in two points of blinding pleasure. Unlike his father or brother, Bryce's horns rose almost straight upwards, climbing higher and higher, curving a little together partway up before angling outward at a slight menacing angle.

As the horns slowed and settled into place, the excess energy pooled in Bryce's eyes, turning his irises a gleaming red while staining the sclera pitch black. His sharpening fangs were the only point of white on a body forged in black and grey. Brandt felt the changes his son went through, saw the man he had become. Changing his son, corrupting him, bringing him together and turning him into something else? It was all too much for Brandt to hold back.

The father Krampus tipped his head back and let out a howl. His huge, swollen balls churned, his fat, huge cock spasmed and suddenly wave after wave of thick, tingling, potent krampus cum sprayed into Bryce. The heat brought with it the last change as Bryce's fine features began to shift. He felt his jaw jutting forward, his nose widening, his teeth surging and his tongue growing. His mouth pushed outward and brought his nose with it, stretching it all out into a muzzle. Even his nose grew moist and wide, taking on animal nostrils.

As his father's dense, fetid cum flowed into his lower intestines, warping his face beyond recognition and permanently staining his soul black, Bryce felt his own balls churn, as his own orgasm had become subordinate to his father's satisfaction. With a mighty roar, he unloaded himself into Deke's tight rump, the last of his pathetic white human seed soon leaving place to his very first dose of pure krampus nectar, dark, dense and oily.

"Yes! Now we are together forever!" Deke exclaimed before groaning as his long, thin monster cock stained the snow before them by pumping out strand after strand of slimy spunk. Bryce's dick slipped out of him, and Deke, a wicked grin on his lips, started fingering his newly ruined hole with clawed fingers.

Brandt couldn't help but pant, the air moving in and out of his enhanced lungs. He stood there with his sons, the three beasts, knowing that nothing would tear them apart. There was no veil before them. The price had been paid, their conversion was complete, and it all seemed so clear now. They had their duties to perform keeping the balance between good and evil, but beyond that? They had a new lease in life... They would be a family closer than any other, they would have their love and their lives, their lust and their joy... and they would be such fine, handsome men.

He reached out to grab Deke's arm, pulling his younger son close, tilting his head so their muzzles could align and they could exchange a wet, sloppy kiss. Their long tongues whipped and flecked, their lips working as they embraced for a long moment before Brandt finally broke it, sensing a change in the wind. His head slowly inclined, glowing golden eyes drifting to the shadow at the edge of the birch trees, the original Krampus.

He stood tall and proud, chains wrapped around his shoulders, a heavy bag hanging from his back. His hair and beard blew in the wind and his horns glistened. It was time for them to fulfill their seasonal duties... but they would have the rest of the year to enjoy each other's company and their new lives. Brandt pulled out from his son slowly, leaving a string of cum between them until they passed far enough apart.

With a knowing look to his sons, Brandt led the way, following after the Krampus as he turned and moved into the trees. The snow fell thicker and thicker as Bryce and Deke followed, all four beasts disappearing into the ether before the grove itself was swept away in snow and darkness, disappearing entirely and leaving only the night, Christmas Eve, behind.

****

An old, well cared for blue and white truck turned onto the side streets, moving along at a leisurely pace. Mike took his time, appreciating how well all of his neighbors had done at decorating their homes. There were lights of all sorts, wreathes, garland, and even a zoo's worth of seasonal animals across the various lawns. It was hard not to smile, especially when he saw how well behaved the neighborhood children were as they built more snowmen.

The truck growled as it turned into the driveway, the headlights shining on the garage door until Mike threw it into park and hopped out. The door swung shut with a loud clang, the classic not really built for a gentle touch. Still, Mike wouldn't have traded it for anything else in the world. It didn't take long to reach the front door, giving the mechanic a chance to scrape the snow off his boots before he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The change in temperature hit him at once, almost seeming too hot, though it didn't take him too long to adjust. Mike pulled the beanie off of his bald head and tossed it over onto the end of the couch before making his way into the kitchen. He peeled off his gloves and set them on the counter before opening the fridge, peering into the glowing white depths to try and decide what he wanted to satiate his appetite with.

After weighing his options, Mike was drawn to the dark amber bottles tucked off to one side. He thought they were beer at first, but after picking up one to examine it, it proved to be carbonated Birch Beer instead. His brow furrowed a bit but he shrugged and popped the cap off, taking a sip. It fizzed on his tongue, his mouth filling with a very strong wintergreen flavor. Mike whistled a bit, impressed before he looked up, hearing footsteps coming down the stairs before Jonas appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, how was work?" Jonas asked with a smile, moving in. Mike grinned, leaning against the dishwasher.

"Not bad if I do say so myself. I let Brandt head home early to be with his boys, but we didn't have too much traffic after that so it wasn't bad closing up." Mike said, taking another swig from the bottle.

"Must have been in a hurry to get home though, you're still wearing your coveralls. Are those new?" Jonas asked, going to the fridge just like his father had. Mike looked down at his black jumpsuit before he smiled, running his free hand down the material.

"As a matter of fact, they are. Someone dropped them off. They're REAL nice. Fit like a glove. Cozy, soft, almost like a second skin. I forgot I was wearing it to be honest with you." Mike said, leaning back a little more, feeling the caress of the fur lining inside across his back and his arms, almost hugging him, "Come to think of it, I might not take them off. They're better than anything I've got here."

"It seems like you're trying lots of new things. Where did you get the beer?" Jonas asked with a chuckle. Mike's eyebrow arched.

"I thought that was yours... Did Bryce bring it over? Is he still here?" Mike asked. Jonas shook his head.

"No, he left an hour or two ago. I think he knew his dad was coming home. Maybe he did leave them behind, but I don't remember him bringing them in." Jonas said. Mike shrugged.

"If he forgot them, we'll get him some replacements, but you should try one. It's non-alcoholic. Just sort of like root beer, but a very different flavor." Mike commented. Jonas looked a bit impressed by the concept and opened the fridge, grabbing himself one before popping the cap. Mike held his out for a toast and Jonas smiled, bringing his back in turn. The amber bottles clinked as they touched and father and son took a sip of the Birch Beer.

"That's not bad." Jonas smiled.

"Merry Christmas, son." Mike grinned even more.

"Merry Christmas, dad." Jonas replied. Mike gave his son a pat on the shoulder before heading to the living room. Jonas followed after, the two dropping down onto the couch. Outside the snow had started to fall again, coming down in delicate flakes that only added to the natural splendor of everything beneath. The trees were caked with more ice, the footprints and tire tracks expunged as nature erased the evidence that man had disrupted the natural order.

The beauty was matched only by the peaceful serenity that permeated the town. It was an aura of good will and peace, something enforced by those creatures that warded off evil and kept those willing to do naughty deeds in check. Behind the scenes, just out of the corner of anyone's eyes, the family of Krampus did what had to be done to make sure that the innocent were free of worry, and the guilty were dealt with. It had been so many years since the Krampus had so many helpers, but now it was more than just a yuletide tradition - it was the family business.