The Reindeer Clause: Prologue

By Nocturne13
published December 23, 2020
4675 words

A dark midwinter faerie tale begins with Santa selecting a new reindeer to serve him, and leaving a gift behind for someone deserving of it.

“The Reindeer Claus”

Prologue: Christmas Eve 2020

*Author’s note: This story is a midwinter Faerie tale. It begins in a dark and frightening place and travels through the Twelve Days of Christmas, becoming lighter as it goes. Though the tone will change over the course of the story, I hope there will be something for every reader within these pages. The story begins with a slow burn and the more explicit erotic content will appear a few days in, and when it does it will be suitably kinky to reward the readers for their patience. I hope you will enjoy the fear and desire, wonder and mystery, as it unfolds. *

It sounded like footsteps on the roof. As ridiculous and as impossible as that was, it sounded like steps, and the creaking of wood not used to holding weight. And not just one person, it sounded like several were milling around. Miles Pierce had awakened at the sound and lay there in the darkness of his bedroom. It was not a mistake or a dream, he heard them again. Then the sound of a heavy thump, as if someone had fallen on the roof and then, a muffled thud and a cry of pain.

A cry of pain from the back yard.

Miles threw off the covers and swung his feet out of bed. He considered turning on the light but in the event it was prowlers he was hearing, he didn’t want to alert them. He grabbed his house robe off the dressing bench at the foot of his bed and slid into his slippers. The light of the waxing gibbous moon outside let enough illumination in through the roman shades covering his bedroom window to see. He grabbed his cell phone and shoved it into the robe pocket, then stealthily walked down the hallway to the dining room where patio doors let out onto the back yard. He released the latch and quietly slid the door back, bracing for the blast of cold air, and stepped quietly out into the night.

The air was bitter cold and dry flakes of snow swept up by the wind danced in the air as he stepped into the night. Another inch of snow had fallen onto the patio area since he’d shoveled and swept it off earlier. The yard itself had a build-up of several inches. To his right, the long rectangular shape of his ranch style house continued until it intersected the attached garage at the end and formed an L shape butting back into his yard. The moon was past the midpoint of the sky, but at three quarters full it cast enough illumination to see the dark shape lying on the ground near the corner. At first, Miles couldn’t understand what he was seeing. The figure seemed humanoid at a glance, but it had huge antlers and possibly too many limbs. Though this neighborhood wasn’t truly rural, it was near enough to the outskirts of town that it wasn’t a complete impossibility for a deer to wander into it. Despite the illumination from the moon, with the mix of tree shadows, Miles was unsure what he was seeing. As he stepped forward and strode into the snow covered yard, his eyes adjusted and his vision focused. It was definitely a man, wearing a leather mask that covered his head and had antlers on it. He was wearing what appeared to be a fetish outfit made of black leather; it was a collection of strategically linked straps and chains with a complicated harness across the chest, as well as shorts, boots, and gloves. He was laying on the ground near the edge of the roof, and his thighbone protruded from a nasty gash while the leg itself was bent at a horrendous angle. A dark splash that might have been blood stained the snow where he lay. He was writhing, and groaning of pain, while also making slight grunting noises like an animal.

Miles stood still as he took the sight in, but as he gaped he realized there were a lot of grunting noises, actually. Too many, Miles realized; and they weren’t just coming from the injured man lying there in the snow. Miles’s vision rose past the pile of fallen snow and icicles lying by the figure in the yard and up onto the roof from where they had been dislodged. Standing spread out along the length of his house’s roof stood more figures clad in black with antlers on their heads. Miles stumbled back in shock and nearly slipped on the powdery snow. There were eight figures in all ranging from end to end, grunting and moving. Like the man on the ground they wore shiny black leather boots, gloves, and briefs, and a variety of straps with chain links and in some cases bells. They all had heads encased in complex masks formed of leather to suggest an animal head and the masks in turn were surmounted by two to three foot tall antlers. No costume was identical, and the men ranged in size from about 6 foot to nearly seven foot, not including the antlers.

Miles gasped with fear. He wished this was a dream, or a nightmare, but the cold piercing wind and the wetness of the stay snowflakes which swirled through the air until they melted on his skin told him it was absolutely real. The men, if they were men, moved with feral determination and it felt like he had caught the attention of a pack of wild beasts. And as he looked further he realized that yes, there was a sleigh parked on the corner of his house where it intersected with the garage and the roof line was slightly flatter.

He suddenly realized that the figure closest to him, standing above him on the roof above the dining room, did not have horns at all, but instead wore a very different hat. His costume varied in that instead of a myriad of straps he wore a few solid pieces, and with Miles’s vision now adjusted to the night and the scattered but brilliant moonlight, he could tell they were leather dyed blood-red and trimmed with white fur. With the moon behind the big oak tree in his back yard, a few shadows were cast across the rooftop, and the man in the middle seemed to have his face hidden in one of them. Slowly Miles realized that rather than a mask, his face was either hidden in the tree’s shadow, or possibly was nothing but a shadow. The area below the stocking cap was black like an empty void, with a glint where eyes should be and a suggestion of snow-white shark teeth arced in a malevolent grin. He met the creature’s gaze and his heart nearly stopped. He stumbled backwards and this time did trip on the snow, sprawling ass first while looking at the spectral figure on his roof.

“Ho… Ho… Ho… Miles Pierce, you’ve been a very… naughty… boy.” The figure stepped forward and collapsed into an inky blackness that flowed down to the ground in the blink of an eye, then widened out and returned to being the Man in Red. His face was now lit by the moonlight instead of being covered in shadow; he now looked human, and even sported a white beard, but hard and merciless as he stepped forward.

“You cannot possibly be Santa Claus!” Miles cried out. The man’s face spread into a wolfish grin.

“Oh but I am. And Krampus, and many others as well,” he said with an admonishing wave of his right hand. Now that he was closer Miles could appreciate the costume he wore more clearly: red leather boots and gloves; some kind of leather short pants like lederhosen; what looked like a red leather corset; a wide black belt with a large buckle around his waist; a pointed leather cap with a pom-pom on the dangling end. All the pieces were trimmed with the same bone-white fur. It was like Dr. Frank-N-Further repurposed some old S&M dungeon gear into a Santa Claus outfit by dyeing it red.

Miles shook his head from side to side in denial as the Man in Red took another deliberate step closer. He felt naked and exposed lying in the snow wearing only his slippers, a robe, and a pair of boxers. He tried to crawl backward away from Santa’s threatening advance, but couldn’t find any purchase in the powdery snow.

“The law is simple. We have seen you, and thus you must become our prey, unless you join us. And as it happens, this night I have now an opening for just one more,” the man said with slow, deliberate measure in his speech.

“Dasher, Dancer, hold this one fast; Prancer, Vixen, strip Comet of his regalia; Cupid, fetch me the Kringlehenge; Donner, search the house for his wallet and identification; Blitzen help whoever needs it.” The seven figures sprang into action and with supernatural strength and grace leapt from the rooftop and sailed to the ground, save Cupid who skipped and bounced along the length of the house toward the sleigh at the end, a tail flapping in the air behind him as he moved with an inhuman spring. The wrongness of the sight of the tall, leather-clad man prancing along the roof made Miles sick with fear.

Miles kicked out hard with his right foot, and though he threw his slipper he managed to to get enough momentum to corkscrew around, brace himself on his hands and knees and sprint forward like a track star. He only moved for a few seconds before Dasher and Dancer effortlessly caught him and trapped him in vice-like grips. The statuesque beings each held Miles by a shoulder and forearm at a comfortable height for them, and Miles’s feet dangled helplessly off the ground. He felt his other slipper drop onto the snow as he struggled.

He was distracted by a low scream followed by whimpering and groaning. He turned to look and saw Prancer and Vixen swiftly stripping away the leather gear worn by Comet. They were not gentle, and had disturbed his broken leg in the process of pulling his boot and thigh straps off him. As Miles watched they swiftly finished removing the last straps of his chest harness, while Blitzen joined them and held him steady. Miles realized their costumes included butt plugs with tails as one was roughly pulled out of Comet and tossed into the snow beside him, eliciting further cries of pain. One of the reindeer reached under the helmet-like leather head mask on Comet and released a catch with an audible click. The face plate lifted up and released the head within, and Prancer and Vixen lifted the heavy mask up and off the head of their injured former companion. Rather than some demonic monstrosity, the man who had been wearing the mask was a young-looking human, surely under thirty; he had wide, strong features, generous, sensual lips; angular, strong arched eyebrows; his eyes were nearly white with pain and terror; his medium-length hair was plastered to his head with sweat. Miles thought he looked like he might be northern Italian ethnically; there was just something so sensual about him Miles had a hard time looking away despite the situation he was in.

As Prancer, Vixen, and Blitzen gathered the various items Comet had been wearing, Cupid approached Santa’s side and held out a slim, black lacquered box, sized to hold something like a fancy fountain pen. Santa nodded and Cupid snapped the box open and presented it with a deep bow while keeping his head craned back at an unpleasant angle so his antlers did not impale the Man in Red. Santa lifted a long thin item from the box which looked like a Victorian tin ornament of a Christmas tree. It was approximately the size and shape of a long thin pinecone but every surface was gray and blackened metal. Even Santa seemed to handle the loathsome thing with distaste and a gentle touch despite wearing red leather gloves. Where a star should be though, a wicked wide needle point was formed from the trunk of the tree; where the base should be was what looked like a hypodermic plunger. Miles gulped and started testing Dasher and Dancer’s hold on him.

“I will tell you now what you receive this Christmas Eve, Miles Pierce. You receive a bare chance at redemption,” Santa began. “For you have prepared a man’s heart to be not simply broken, but crushed; you have spat upon love and embraced shallow lusts; your reckless actions have endangered dozens of lives and taken three so far. Thy place in the Pit is already assured!” Santa roared like an angry wolf.

“No! I didn’t do anything! You have it all wrong!” Miles yelled, kicking fiercely but held fast by the iron grips of the lead reindeer. Santa approached him, wielding the Kringlehenge and holding it, as Miles suspected, like a hypodermic. “You can’t do this to me! I have rights! This is AMERICA!” he screamed and kicked and thrashed with every bit of strength he had. The reindeer did not even feel his efforts.

Santa nonchalantly looked at the wicked thing in his hand and tapped it as if clearing an air bubble. “Is your boyfriend named Gary?” he said mildly. “The official one, I mean,” he clarified.

“Uh, yes?” Miles said, fear cascading down the back of his spine like rain in a downspout in a thunderstorm.

“Well,” Santa said with an evil laugh, “I don’t think there’s been any mistake. Now hold him fast all!” The remaining reindeer surged forward and grabbed at Miles. Dasher and Dancer set him on the ground and the crowd surrounding him forced him to the ground, snatching his bathrobe off and pushing him first to his knees and then slamming him flat on his back. The hands of the reindeer grabbed him and held him firmly spread on the ground. His boxers were torn off him and he felt the shock of the cold snow on the exposed areas. Every hand upon him felt like a crushing vice, and one reindeer sat directly behind his head and put his full weight on Miles’s shoulders. It felt like his collarbones would break under the strain. He screamed and swore and tried to thrash despite the weight and strength pushing his naked body deeper into the freezing snow.

“Sometimes we can skip one but you are mouthy and I have already tired of your protestations,” Santa said, straddling Miles. He reached down and with one gloved hand and pinched Miles’s left nipple. “By the rune-ring I shall bind thy tongue; by the rune-ring I shall bind thy mind; cast off thy human nature and be thou the beast that rages within thy soul. Be now my beast of burden, my swift steed, my pack animal. Know the rutting and the running, know the lash and whip, know thy place.” As Santa spoke these words, sparks of light awakened on the Kringlehenge like evil Christmas tree lights. He placed the point of the huge hollow needle next to Mile’s pinched nipple and pressed the plunger as he pierced it with the merest tip. Liquid metal flowed out of the shaft as the needle bit into Miles’s nipple. Miles screamed in agony as the delicate flesh was violated, and sorcerous liquid metal flowed through the opening and curled forward. As he watched, the metal extruded from the Kringlehenge flowed through the pierced nipple and curved down, then bent back up into the shape of a ring. Luminous symbols formed in the surface as the metal shaped itself of its own accord. Santa continued pressing on the plunger until the metal had curled up nearly into an almost perfect ring and then he released the plunger and withdrew his hand. The metal flowed together and sealed with no flaw or break. As the ring completely formed the runes floating on the top of the metal glowed once more and then dulled leaving themselves engraved into the darkly silver ring, and Miles felt something very wrong in his head. It was as if his head had been fitted into a vice and clamped hard. He tried to swallow but his tongue felt strange. He opened his mouth to protest further but all that came out were some grunts similar to the ones the reindeer had made earlier.

“It’s so much easier when we do the left first, Miles. You don’t have the strength to fight. Now it’s time to make you strong enough for the duties you’ll hold for the next fifty years.” Santa laughed in eager anticipation.

“Fifty,” thought Miles, struggling to comprehend the number. “Fifty is so long, fifty is, no it’s, a lot it’s 4 dozen and an extra two but what’s a dozen? Why can’t I think? What’s something more than ten, no wait that’s too many digits, that’s hard, one number nine, nine, one to nine, why can’t I think of a number bigger than nine?” Miles counted the six reindeer holding him down, Comet lying on the ground, Santa, and himself. “Nine is that many but if I add the other one who went in the house, it’s too big a number!” Panic washed across Miles’ face as he realized he had completely lost all ability to comprehend numbers higher than a single digit.

“No, nooo” he managed to gasp out. He could feel his thoughts shrinking, collapsing, his identity dissolving like a sand castle in a tide. He found the space for his thoughts shrinking rapidly. Complex concepts became out of reach. Far past and far future had no purchase; here and now, simple thoughts. Pain in his pierced nipple. Now Santa was pinching his other nipple. “Santa’s piercing me again, and that’s … bad?”

Santa firmly grasped his other nipple and touched the Kringlehenge to it. Miles hissed in pain as the delicate flesh was once again pierced by the needle-sharp tip. “By the rune-ring I strengthen thy body; by the rune-ring I strengthen thy breast. Cast off thy mortal nature and become one with the herd. Thou shalt run across the arctic fields and never tire. Though shalt frolick with with the herd and ride and be ridden by the elves. Thy body shall not know age nor ill for the course of thy service. Thy milk and seed shall flow unending. Be now my beast of burden, my swift steed, my pack animal. Be thou my reindeer.” Again the Kringlehenge lit up with evil lights and Santa extruded the rune-covered metal through Miles’s right nipple. The pain was again agonizing but Miles could barely make a sound more than a guttural bleat. His teeth and tongue felt all wrong and the idea that sounds could mean much of anything when he made them seemed dubious. As the second nipple ring was extruded from the device and sealed closed, Miles felt a strange, queasy, almost poisonous burning deep within his abdomen. Miles’s heart raced, and pinpricks started to spread through his entire body, including his head and his loins. The pain of the raw piercings quickly faded as coolness spread through his body from the points of his nipples and he sighed with relief.

Then, he felt his dick begin to stiffen and grow, but it did not feel normal. Rather than simply enlarging a small amount and swiftly hardening, he felt it continue to stretch well past what it normally would before it became solid. Then he felt his legs stretching in a similar way, and his arms, and his torso and even his jaw and then his head. As his body flowed and stretched and enlarged, bolts of orgasmic pleasure rocketed within his body, bouncing from nerve to nerve. He felt his entire body softening and begin inflating from the surges of power racing wildly through him. Above him Santa was softly chanting another spell in words he could not understand. He felt so strong, felt so powerful. His arms were thick with muscle, his legs were thick with muscle, his back was strong, and his manhood felt like it could fuck a hole in a wall. How could he cling to being Miles when he could be this muscle beast? Miles? Who was Miles, he was part of the Herd… and he needed a herd-name.

The other reindeer released him and stood back in a loose circle around him. He arched his back and flailed helplessly as he realized he was not simply growing, from his crotch a thick pelt of body hair erupted, the prickling of new hair leaving him twitching and giggling with a perversely ticklish sensation as it slowly spread across his torso and then down his legs. Of course a reindeer should have fur! He giggled and grunted, the pleasure of his transformation choking his old sense of self away. He liked the hair, he liked the hair a lot. It was only human-like fuzz and he wished it could be real solid fur. He felt an itching along his jaw and neck and bleated and grunted happily as a thick beard erupted from his chin and cheeks, twitching as the ticklish hair growth surged out of his pores. It quickly stopped and he lay there in the snow twitching as his new muscles and his brain tried to signal each other to regain coordination. Miles thought his dick felt big and heavy and he liked that. He liked that very much.

Once the transformation ran its course, Miles just lay there unresisting, enjoying the feeling of his big body and dick, and he ran his hands over his crotch and across the new growth of hair and grunted happily. With a gesture from Santa the other reindeer began to dress him in the regalia they had taken from his predecessor. They slid the boots and gloves on him, the codpiece, the straps, the harness. He was lifted and turned and touched and he did nothing but grunt happily to be handled by the herd even as his new tail was inserted in his ass. He was a big strong reindeer and the youngest of the herd, this was right and proper and the snow felt good against his hide. Finally they drew him up to a seating position. The hood and antlers were lowered onto his head and the face shield brought down to cover his face. Dasher reached beneath his chin and snapped the catch into place and then the new Comet was lifted to his feet. The reindeer guided him toward the house and helped him make the leap up onto the roof. As they did so Donner exited the house from the sliding doors and hurried to Santa’s side bearing Miles’s wallet. As Cupid had, he extended the wallet with a deep bow while craning his neck back to keep his antlers mostly upright. Like Cupid and Blitzen, he only had the right nipple pierced with a rune ring.

Santa gestured to Miles’s cell phone which was lying in the snow after his robe had been stripped off him. Donner snatched it up and obsequiously presented it to the Man in Red. Without a word Santa took it and stuffed it into his wide black belt, then walked over to the former Comet, lying injured and bleeding in the snow. Donner snatched up the robe and scurried over to also pick up the dropped slippers before trailing behind him.

Santa stood looking down at the former Comet, who was looking up at him in complete terror, eyes unobstructed by his mask for the first time in fifty years. Santa flipped open the wallet and drew out the driver’s license. “Ho Ho Ho, and upon this Holy night,” Santa began to chant. The power of his magic began to fill this air, ripples and distortions of power emanating outward. “Let Miles Pierce be gone and Miles Pierce be returned. By word written and deed recorded, by thought and memory, let him be lost and found anew. Only those linked by blood of birth and knowledge most intimate shall recall who was before. So mote it be,” he intoned. The gathering power exploded outward in an invisible ripple of force that would eventually encircle the globe. The photograph on the driver’s license changed and now depicted the former Comet; even the text transformed to reflect his physical attributes. In all of the human world, every record, whether in a computer or on paper, changed to reflect this magically delivered lie.

Satisfied, Santa glared down at the man below him and disdainfully threw the wallet and driver’s license onto him. He then pulled the phone out of his belt and placing a finger on the side of his nose he winked. The phone unlocked. Santa dialed 911.

“This is 911. Please state the nature of your emergency.”

In a weak, croaking voice Santa said, “I fell… outside… I think my leg is broken. And I hit my… head, so hard to … think… help me…” and then threw the phone into the snowbank next to the man who was now known to the world as Miles Pierce.

Santa sighed. As he did the wind stirred the branches of the trees and as their shadows moved across his face the Krampus visage momentarily appeared when his face was cast in shadow instead of light. The man laying in the snow stayed very still, fear and obedience locking him in paralysis.

“It seems like every Comet is among the worst of my herd but you …. you were among the worst to ever serve me. I swear to you, if you do not obey your new master and serve him with every fiber of your being, you will know regret greater than those consigned to the Pit. Dedicate yourself with every drop of blood, every shard of bone, every hair, and every breath… or Christmas or no I swear by the Three Queens of Faerie I will come back for you and once again I shall have a ninth!” the man below him cried in fear and covered his eyes. He tried to curl into a fetal ball but dislodging his leg sent waves of agony through him that left him screaming and thrashing. Santa smiled in satisfaction and turned away, flickering into an inky cloud for a moment before reappearing on the roof near his sleigh.

Donner hurried over and tossed the slippers near the former Comet’s feet and threw the bathrobe over his naked body with a swift motion and then dashed after Santa and leapt to the roof. He rushed to take up his position in the train along with the others, and had barely snapped the lines from the sleigh onto his own chest harness when Santa cracked his whip.

“We have deliveries yet to make this night! Hiee!” Santa cracked a whip and the eight reindeer darted forward in unison, sleigh bells rang and they pulled the sleigh to the end of the house and off it. The reindeer and the sleigh lifted into the air and flew off into the night, chasing the clouds across the gibbous moon. In the distance the sound of sirens and flashing blue lights raced up the street of the subdivision en route to the moderate home on the corner, and its new owner, lying freezing in the snow.

Version 1.41 12-23-2020

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