An Xmas Story Those of you old enough might remember a rather short-lived and fashionable trend in avant garde writing in the early 80's called splattergore, or in some circles, splatterporn. This tale is a bit of a homage to that, as well as another chapter in the lives of Fey and Rand....not as much raping as one might ordinarily find in a tale featuring them, but I find it entertaining none the less. Enjoy! As always, for my wife, who I love so.... Dragon We were watching the Eagles, and having a conversation we'd had before...often. The fire had burned low in the fireplace, and Fey's class of wine was nearly empty. I was nursing a root beer, and slouching deeply in the couch with the remote control in my hand. My feet were up on the coffee table, Fey's were centered in the middle of Nooks small back as she lay prostrate on the floor in front of the sofa. If you listened closely you could just hear the humming of the vibrators Fey had shoved in her before she became a piece of furniture. The feed from Seattle was jumpy, every once in a while the action would stop for a second or so, then restart. "Looks like someone is playing with their time stopping device," Fey commented. "Can't be. You and I don't stop when the TV does- plus, if time were stopping, we wouldn't notice the TV jumping." "They could be using it locally...what if it's a little bitty one that only works in a small area?" she said with a smile. I looked at her and she grinned in the dark. We went back to watching the game. "So how do you think he *does* do it?" I said after a moment. "Magic, of course," she replied. "He lands on the roof, poofs himself down the chimney, drops his load, and blinks himself back up to the sleigh. Takes no time at all." "But there are billions of people in the world. How does he get to all of them in one night?" "That's silly. He obviously has some way to control time," she scoffed at my lack of information. "If he's got one, then we should have one," I mused. "That could be fun. Sure make hunting easier," she said, thinking. "You're thinking that it will be cold in the North Pole," I said. "I could wear my fur," she said. I picked up the black phone next to me and spoke into the mouthpiece. "Grimes, get the car ready, we're going to the North Pole." The big black Humvee cruised effortlessly over the last small ridge of deep snow and rolled to a stop on the far side. Technically it was the north side of the slope, but this close to the actual pole it became somewhat academic. At the bottom of the long slope in a serene snowy valley lay a clustered group of large buildings, all of them festooned with every manner of light and decoration. Patterned after oversized tacky version of a Alpine ski lodges, the buildings were alive with activity and light. Through frosted windows small heads could be seen going to and fro, some of them bearing bulky packages and boxes as they went. Towards the center of the complex stood the biggest building of them all, a garish neon pink monstrosity with 6 chimneys and hundreds of feet of tinsel and popcorn chains fairly dripping from the eaves. Candy canes hung from the gutters, and in a small paddock at the rear were 8 reindeer stamping about in the cold. "Is that reindeer's nose glowing?" Fey asked, pointing at the paddock. We watched the deer in question. "Yup," we said in unison when suddenly it flared bright red. I activated the Humvee's fire control system and brought the twin mini-guns on line. A red dot heads up display came to life across the face shield of my helmet. Fey grasped the joystick on the rocket battery actuator, flipping on her own fire control system and testing the pods by moving the joystick around experimentally. The satisfying whine of hydraulics and electric motors answered her commands as the pods swung about to bear on her imaginary targets. I conducted a similar check with the mini-guns, watching as the tips of the barrels swung across our field of view at the top of the windshield. I triggered the barrel motors and the 8-barrelled rotary assemblies spun with an evil whine. Satisfied I released the contact and the rotaries wound down. "Don't suppose he'd just *give* us the thing, do you?" I said. "Hey, he had his time. If you see any cute elves, leave a few alive so we can see what they scream like," Fey said, her face a mask of evil in the darkness. I could have sworn I saw her teeth gleam with a light all their own. I smiled my own smile in the dark and reached across to pat her thigh. She squeezed my hand and I let the Humvee roll on down that slope. The first group of tiny little folks that noticed us were dressed all in green jerkins with high leather boots and tights. They had little caps on their heads, with little bells on the end. When I flipped on the 3 million candlepower lights their little faces were thrown into stark relief; sallow, with thin looking skin and slanty eyes. I couldn't see their ears; maybe they were pointy, maybe they weren't. They all looked pretty damned surprised. "They look like little white Asians!" Fey squealed gleefully. "Make sure to leave me a few alive to play with!" she said as the first rocket left it's pod and punched right through the chest of the closest one before detonating in the center of the group. Elf goo went everywhere, soaking the snow a sort of bluish green. "Ick, their blood is the wrong color," I said. "Ohmigod, it's *teal*!" Fey shouted. Fey hates teal. She fired another rocket into the space where the elves had been just for good measure, then we were on the hunt for real. Elves came pouring out of the buildings surrounding the central house to see what all the din was about and we set about hacking them to bits with our armament. The miniguns screamed their fatal hiss as they sent 3000 rounds a minute into the vulnerable flesh of the screeching elves. Rocket after rocket pounded into the bloodied snow, sending elves and bits of elves all over the countryside. A few larger critters came running out wearing some sort of uniform and we started taking small arms fire from the pistols they were carrying. "Elves with guns!" Fey shouted as she evaporated the first knot of them with two rockets. I was cutting apart another group with the guns. "And here I thought this was a volunteer organization," I replied. A bullet plinked off of the thick glass of the wind and bullet shield, and I turned the miniguns on the culprit. He split into a shower of flailing arms and frothy lung tissue. We rolled on through the compound with no real resistance and pulled right up to the front of the central house. The masses of elves rushing out of the buildings around us had all but ebbed, either because they were smart enough to hide, or we were running out of them to shoot. We sat in front of the house and picked a few more of the uniformed one's to bits, then there was a lull where no more targets presented themselves. Suddenly a window high up on the central house was flung open and the nasty maw of a rocket launcher appeared. Behind the tall plastic sight I could just see a ruddy bewhiskered face and a shiny bald head over a red fur trimmed suit. "To what do my wondering eyes should appear?" I said. "Santa with a LAWS rocket?" she replied, smiling. Santa took longer than he should have lining up the sights on the LAWS and then he palmed the firing button and the rocket whooshed out of the business end of the tube. Simultaneously a great gout of flame roared out of the window, brightly bracketing Santa and setting him aflame. "Didn't check his back blast area," Fey said, shaking her head sadly. The 40mm rocket ricocheted off of the hood and detonated against the windshield in an impressively noisy fireball of TNT and shrapnel. "Pretty!" I said, my ears ringing. "Is that Santa screaming, or are my ears ringing?" Fey said. "Both," I said, pointing. Something bright and burning went past the upstairs window to the right of the window he'd fired the rocket out of. Santa was apparently running about upstairs whilst on fire. "We'd better get in there before he sets the whole damn place ablaze," Fey said, and I nodded in the dark. We checked our HK's and rolled out of our respective doors, our heads on a swivel looking for potential trouble. Resistance was small and futile, and in the wink of an eye we were in the foyer of Santa's house. There was much running about of elves this way and that; I chopped a few in half with my MP-5 before we decided to take a few alive. On the run the sexes were hard to tell apart, but once we got a group of them to stand still it was apparent that the girl elves stood out. "They've got sweet little tits!" Fey exclaimed, pawing at one. We quickly trussed up 4 girl elves and shot their male companions, then set about clearing the floor proper. By the time we were done sweeping through we'd bagged 6 more of the little girl critters, and offed a score or two of the boy munchkins. We'd heard precious little from upstairs as of yet, though we kept our eyes and ears open in case of another rocket attack. "Is it just me, or do all these cunts look similar?" I said. Fey mused on the topic for a moment, then jerked the hose of one down around her knees. She had a light dusting of pale muff hair that barely hid her small puffy labia. "Yippee, they've got pussies!" she said. "What does that have to do with whether they look the same?" "I don't know, you distracted me when you said "cunt"," she said, smiling. I laughed and we turned for the wide stairway. It was a long flight with overhanging balconies, the perfect place for an ambush. We tipped lightly up the treads, our eyes turned to the railings around us looking for potential trouble. We met none. Fey was whistling "Here Comes Santa Claus" under her breath. Now half in fear that our quarry had eluded us, we picked up the pace, going room to room clearing the upper floors. We'd sectioned the place off and narrowed it down to one wing that led right away from the staircase and headed in the general direction of the windows that the rocket had been launched from. I eased down that hallway with Fey covering to my left. Two doors, one on either side, yielded nothing but empty garishly appointed rooms; there was only one door left at the end of the hall. As we neared it we could hear moaning and protestations coming from behind it. Not one for subtly, I kicked the door in and we stepped into the room. What was left of Santa was lying in an smoldering heap leaning back against an oversized couch in the middle of the room being tended by a human female and 4 overdeveloped elf females. They were doing the best they could, but Santa had screwed the pooch in a big way and probably wasn't going to make sunrise. His face was a mass of blister and running puss, and every hair on his head and chin were burned off. One eye drooped out of the socket as if on elastic. His formerly red suit had seared into his flesh when it melted, as cheap polyester will do. Both hands were badly scarred and curled up in the classic pugilistic attitude, like a boxer fighting with Death himself. The human woman bending over him appeared to be in her mid-thirties, though something about her eyes said that she'd seen more years than that. She was dressed in a version of Santa's suit, though one that was cut better, and that flattered her ample figure. She was a bit top heavy for an elf; hell, she was top heavy for a human. She eyed us with venom, her hand tightening to a fist around the wet cloth she was using to dab at Santa. The four tall elf girls around the woman were fractional mirrors of her, fair, busty, with heavier features than elves have, but with the slanted occipital fold and the creamy skin. If they appeared to have a family resemblance, then it was a stronger echo of the sensation I'd been having since we came in. "You're right, they *do* look alike," Fey said. "Yeah, but the question is, do they look more like *her*," I said, pointing at the human woman, "or like Krispy Kringle there." "I hope you're not insinuating that Santa is fucking the help," she said, grinning. "I think I am, darling, sad though it may be," I replied. The woman rushed forward, her fists balled. "Get out of my house this insta...." she managed before I swung the butt of the MP-5 into her midsection. She doubled over and dropped like a stone, all the air wheezing out of her. I planted a boot on her head and gestured to the 4 elf girls to line up against the wall. They stared at me dumbly. "Do you think they understand English?" I asked Fey. "I'm sure they understand Bullet," she replied, and triggered a string into the wall over their heads. The girls started and cowered together, huddling away from Santa and shrinking against the wall I'd indicated. "See, they're not so dumb after all," Fey said after she finished tying them together. "I see your point," I said. I stood on what had to be Mrs. Claus while Fey trussed her up, then I went to sit on Santa's lap. He moaned loudly when I plopped down on his thighs. "No, no, no, you're supposed to ask me what I want for Xmas, Santa!" I said to his blackened face. He tried to focus on me with his one good eye, but it kept wandering. I picked up his other one by the optic nerve and held it pointed straight at me. He screamed a lot then, so I went ahead and stuffed it back in it's socket. After that he only mewled a bit and started to look a little woozy. "Here's some good ole' fashioned revival medicine, love," Fey said, handing me a syringe. I popped the needle into Santa's jugular and thumbed the plunger, driving several hundred cc's of our special concoction into his brain. He came around pretty good then, all flailing around and hollering. "Who..who are you! Get out of my house! How dare you!" he sputtered. I pushed at his wounded eye with my fingertip and he shut right up. "Now ask me what I want for Xmas, Santa," I said calmly. He protested a few more times, but after several iterations of having his injured eye poked at, he calmed down and got to business. "Wha..at do you want for Xmas," he said sullenly, the pain etched in his face. I thought about it for a long time while I squirmed on his lap. "All I want for Xmas is two front teeth." I said. Santa blinked a few times, uncomprehending. I smiled and hopped up. "Your turn!" I said to Fey. She strode over and swung herself into Santa's lap, managing as she did so to give him a good feel of her body against his. He didn't seem too receptive, and even less so when she poked him in the eye. "Damnit! What do you want for Xmas!" he fairly shouted, his burned hand going to his damaged eye. "The time machine, of course," Fey purred. Santa's good eye hardened, and his face drew as taut as a guy his size could manage. "There is no such thing," he said coldly. "Bullshit," Fey said smiling sweetly. He started to say something else and she poked him in his damaged eye hard. He reeled back against the couch he was laying against, and Mrs. Claus starting wriggling and cussing at us. I kicked her in the stomach and she calmed right down. "The time machine," Fey demanded. "There is no such thing!" Santa shouted, and his eye paid the price. "Damnit, stop that!" he shouted in pain. She poked him three more vicious jabs, the third one starting the blood running down his cheek. He was struggling to get out from under her but he was too badly injured to get much effort into it. "The time machine," Fey said, bored now. "There..." he started and she raised her finger. "I'm telling the truth!" he screamed. Fey looked at me and I looked at her. "8 billion kids, and he does it all in one night, and he *doesn't* have a time machine?" I asked. "No, of course I don't...ow!" Santa managed to say before Fey poked him in the eye. "Of course you do, love, the question was rhetorical. If you won't tell us to save your own hide, we'll have to provide you with stronger incentive. Darling, would you oblige? Oh, and if I recall correctly, her name is Jessica," she asked sweetly. "You know Santa Claus's wife's name?" "Certainly. I saw it on an Xmas special one year." "Ah," I replied, and pulled a pair of slip-joint pliers from a pocket. I pulled up a hank of Jessica's hair and dragged her over to where Santa was resting. "Look, hon, Xmass is coming early this year, I'm about to get my two front teeth!" I said. Jessica didn't want any of it, but I was stronger and I wasn't tied up, so it didn't take long before I had my knee on her head and the pliers searching around in her mouth. Santa himself was retching and heaving in panic, doing what he could to get Fey off of his lap, but she kept poking him whenever he got some leverage. I got a good hold on what I was looking for finally and with a twist and a snap I jerked Jessica's right incisor out with a trail of blood behind it as I swung it towards Santa. The woman set about screaming something awful then, and I let her go right on with it to let Santa have the full effect. His eyes tried to roll back in his head and I thought he was going to puke, but after a moment the pastiness left his skin and he came back around. Mrs. Claus was burbling in the blood running out between her lips now, spitting and choking on the flow. I eyed the tooth, I'd gotten most of it, but it was pretty clear that most of one root and some of another were still in her head. Still gripping the tooth in the pliers I eased the sharp broken root end towards Santa's good eye. "The average human has 32 teeth in their head. Your wife now has 31. I haven't the faintest idea how many those mongrels there might have, but I'm pretty sure they'll scream loud when I pull them out, too. You can tell us about the machine, or I can continue my dentistry apprenticeship." By now the tooth was less than an inch from his eye, and I could see that he well appreciated how sharp the ends of the roots were. I looked him in the eye and saw a beaten man, his life ebbing away. "The basement...," he said, his chin dropping to his chest. Fey stood up and I snatched him to his feet and between the two of us we duck-walked him down the long wide staircase and around behind that to another staircase and down that into the basement. Fey only had to poke him in the eye 6 times to keep him going. We went as a group through a set of steel doors and then through another set, and then finally arrived at what looked for all the world like a bank vault door, a huge steel affair with a dial in the middle. Santa looked like he was going to balk then, but Fey got him going again with some well-aimed jabs. Santa got busy spinning the dial and dropping the tumblers, until finally he worked the handle and the door swung effortlessly open. Inside was a simple metal cube, upon which stood what looked like a wooden box. We advanced into the vault pushing Santa in front of us, and arrayed ourselves around what proved to be a dark wooden case with fine engraving all over it and silver inlay throughout. Santa gestured at the thing and Fey opened the lid. Inside, nestled in some red velour, was an ordinary looking wristwatch, albeit with oversized buttons on it. Santa made his move then, surging forward to try to snatch the thing before we could get it. He was dealing with the wrong crowd, though, he didn't get half a step before I clubbed him down with the butt of my MP-5. I hit him several more times while he was down for good measure. Fey had picked up the watch, then jerked a little. "Oh that was freaky!" she exclaimed. "What was?" I asked. "I pushed this button here, the one marked "stop", and you and Santa stopped moving. Then when I pushed it again you started again," she replied. "You couldn't have pushed the button, you've only just picked the watch...." I trailed off as Fey vanished, my heart surging to my throat. "I'm over here!" she called from behind me. I spun and there she was in all her beauty and grace. "Don't do that again!" I growled. I bent down to Santa as he lay there groaning and poked him with the muzzle of my gun. "How does it work, Kringle my dear boy. Don't dawdle telling us, either, you're lovely wife has enough teeth in her head to eat with, for now. You wouldn't want anything to happen to the rest of them." With a little persuasion we managed to suss out the details of the machine's operation. The crux of it turned out to be that we had total control; we could stop it everywhere, locally, for just one person, or we could stop it everywhere and "unfreeze" as many people as we wished. We could move backwards through the stream as far as we liked. We couldn't, it seemed, go forwards though, as that part of the continuum hadn't been realized yet. "Yum, this will be *such* fun!" Fey squealed. I was eyeing Santa. "Not much good without his little toy, eh? I think we've got all we need get out of him, and it looks like he isn't going to last the night anyway." I mused. "Might as well put him out of our misery," Fey concurred. She raised her MP-5 and gave Santa a long string through the center mass, the 9mm rounds punching neat holes in the front of his Santa suit. Santa died quickly, and we swept up the stairs to collect our booty. As it turned out our booty was busy trying to escape. Jessica had gotten loose and was untying the 4 elf-women when we came through the door. Jessica had also acquired for herself a small silver and black handgun, which she brandished at us fiercely when we came in. Fey kneecapped her neatly with her machine pistol and I stepped across the room and knocked the silly little gun out of her hand. She fell to the floor screaming, holding her wounded knees. "I don't think Mrs. Santa is going to make the trip back home either," I said. "Might as well fuck her here, then!" Fey said brightly. She tried to get away, dragging herself across the floor with her arms while we tore at her clothing, but her knees were hurting her too much and she was losing a lot of blood. I tore open her tight Santa-suit top to reveal a white lacy bra underneath. I jerked her top down her arms to effectively trap her elbow, and then jacked my knife open in front of her eye. Fey meanwhile had ripped off the poor woman's boots and was tugging her pants down over her bleeding knees. She was wearing thong panties that matched the bra. "Shit, Mrs. Santa is a fox," Fey said, grabbing a handful of the panties and tearing from our victim. Her cunt was shaved bald. Fey and I exchanged glances over the cunt's struggling body. I zipped my blade under her bra front and slashed the thing apart, letting her full tits bounce free and jiggle. "I always love that part," Fey sighed. "Let's bend her over the couch and you can fuck her while I work her over!" I took up Jessica by the hair and brought her over to the couch, her trapped arms flailing and her legs giving out as her knee joints degraded further. She was frothing at the mouth from the agony and from the missing tooth, and the blood and saliva ran down between her tits all the way to her belly. I jerked her over the back of the overstuffed couch and handed Fey the hair I'd been holding. She twisted it up in her fist, pulled the woman's face up towards her, and punched her hard in the mouth. The missing tooth came into play here as it let her top lip smash into the gap where it had been and cut itself against the two teeth on either side. I had my dick out and was massaging it to full hardness. Fey punched the woman again, her black leather gloves making a wet smacking sound when she struck. That was all I needed, I bent across Jessica's back and kissed Fey deeply, then after a bit of positioning drove my cock right up her defenseless asshole. She wasn't completely dry, due to the blood and stuff that had already run to her crotch, but she was damned tight and not ready for such an invasion. I reveled in the scream that tore at her throat as my cock seared it's way up her ass. I punched her hard in the right ass cheek, and Fey caught her a good one on her jaw that I think dislocated it. I jumped up and down on her ass with all my body weight a couple of times to get her going good, then I stuck my blade into the soft meat of her left tit. She was getting pretty shocky by then, so while I humped her ass Fey popped her with a needle full of our special sauce, and when that kicked in the shrieking started for real. I cut off her left tit and stuffed the meat into her mouth. Fey hit her again and it went flying across the room to land with a plop in front of the 4 elf chicks. Fey went over to the fireplace and picked up the poker, and as I slide the blade under the smooth curve of her right tit, Fey set about knocking the rest of her teeth out with the poker. It was really quite exquisite, the sensations she was sending to me via her anal sphincter- each time Fey splintered one of her teeth if felt like my dick had become encased in a velvet vise. I took full advantage, and used those moments to ram her anus with abandon. I was building to orgasm, so I finished cutting off the other boob and used it's bloody mass to smear all over Mrs. Claus's back and ass, rubbing the pulpy meat against her bald cunt as I assfucked her. Fey had knocked all of the front teeth out and was now trying to get the poker down the woman's throat, which would have been a fairly simple matter had it not been for the little hook thing on the side that one normally used to turn logs over. Mrs. Santa wasn't long for this world and I hate cumming into dead bodies, so I increased my tempo and let the sensations build to a crescendo. Fey got the hook part past whatever portion of Mrs. Claus's anatomy that resisted it and drove a good foot or so of the poker into her mouth. Immediately a veritable geyser of frothy blood issued forth as her lungs ruptured and her anus started to spasm around my cock. It was all I needed- I plunged my dick into her shuddering ass and my blade down between her shoulder blades. While my dick surged out a massive load I stabbed her over and over again in the back until at last I was spent and she was dead. Fey leaned over her bloody body and we kissed long and sweet. I looked over at the now plainly terrified elf-women. "Next!" I shouted, and we both laughed. They didn't seem to think it was as funny as we did. I pulled my dick from Mrs. Santa's now loose ass and saw that it had a fair amount of shit and blood on it. I walked waggling over to the 4 cowering against the wall. "Einy-meany-miny-mo," I began, and ran through the whole routine til I settled on the cutie on the right side of the group. I pointed at my dick and told her to suck it clean. Fey had come up behind her, and when she hesitated, grabbed her by the hair and kicked her hard at the back of the knees. The girl went down quick to all fours, and I took that opportunity to pry her jaws open and stuff my cock in. She gagged so nicely, her throat milking me up and down while she choked on the sudden intrusion and the wretched taste. Fey worked her head up and down on me with the girls hair, periodically giving her a good kick to her hose covered ass. She didn't do a bad job cleaning me up, and I didn't feel any teeth scraping me, so after I was satisfied that I was pristine again I shoved her off and redressed. Her lips were brown with the shit and red with the blood, and looked lovely as she retched and tried to get the taste out of her mouth. I held my hand out to Fey and she took it, and we stepped over to a clear area in the room. She held on to me while I fiddled with the watch. "Where are we going?" she asked. "Back a bit, I hope...." I said as I pushed the button. There was a sort of a blur and then things cleared up. What was left of Santa was lying in an smoldering heap leaning back against an oversized couch in the middle of the room being tended by a human female and 4 overdeveloped elf females. They were doing the best they could, but Santa had screwed the pooch in a big way and probably wasn't going to make sunrise. His face was a mass of blister and running puss, and every hair on his head and chin were burned off. One eye drooped out of the socket as if on elastic. His formerly red suit had seared into his flesh when it melted, as cheap polyester will do. Both hands were badly scarred and curled up in the classic pugilistic attitude, like a boxer fighting with Death himself. "What fun!" Fey squealed. "Who are you people!" Mrs. Claus shouted as Santa moaned. We took charge of the situation at once, offing Santa yet again, and this time trussing Mrs. Claus up with her 4 helpers. She'd be fun to play with again. "Looks like we'll be home for Xmas, darling," Fey cooed. "We'll be the only ones, it seems," I said to her, gesturing at the leaking heap in the red suit. "Santa Claus ain't commin' to town," she pouted. "To bad for them," I said. "What the hell," she said, "we're pagans anyway." "Let's get the truck packed up and head for home...."
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