"And you've been keeping a diary, yes?"

"Yes." I said. The exasperation I felt dripped over my words.

"Every night?" The psychiatrist—Beth, her name was—raised her eyebrow. I handed her the book. While she looked down at it, I rolled my eyes at the mirror and my reflection responded in kind. Two out of the three women in the room thought Beth was full of shit.

The quack coughed. It hadn't been a rhetorical question, then. "Every night," I said.

"Good. Hm, let's see what sorts of things you've put in here..." Beth opened the book, flipped to the page I'd marked, and started to read.

"Ahh, you're awake!" The portly old woman turned, offering me a tray of snowman cookies. "Go on, take one. They're delicious."

I accepted the cookie gratefully, nibbling on it while I considered my position. I wasn't in my own home, that much was clear. I didn't remember coming here, either, but somehow I felt... safe, even eager. I had a dozen questions, but decided on just one. "Why is this place familiar?"

The old lady smiled, her rosy cheeks nestling among the wrinkles of her kindly face. "Because you've been here before, Sarah. Once a year, even. Would you like another cookie? Some milk?"

"Milk, please." She handed me a tall, cool glass of it. I took a drink—delicious, the perfect temperature. I'm sure we made a ridiculous pair—her in her warm holiday clothing and oven mitts, me in my sharp businesswoman's suit with a milk moustache. For that matter, I was sure I'd gone to sleep nude, but when I woke here I'd found myself wearing the suit. I shrugged and licked away my milk moustache. "Where am I?"

"My home, dear." She patted me on the head. "It's not very exciting, I fear, but it does well for me." I paid little attention to the cabin around me, cozy as it was. I got the distinct feeling that this place wasn't what I was here for. There was a window nearby, and outside was snow as far as the eye could see, but somehow I knew the wooden door next to it wouldn't take me out into the cold.

I finished the milk and returned the glass, an expectant grin on my face. "Can I?" We both knew I meant the door.

"Of course, dear. They should be ready for you. Don't be a stranger, though." She smiled, wide and warm. "I could use the company. You don't have to stay out there the whole night." I nodded, smiled, then stood and walked to the door, pausing only briefly to still my shaking hands. With a deep breath, I opened it.

An immense, impossible ballroom greeted me, filled with hundreds of people, all beautiful and beautifully dressed, dancing round and round, talking near the buffet, eating at the table, clustering in high-society conversation. I looked down at myself and squealed, clapping my hands delightedly—a glorious white silk Cinderalla-gown replaced it, and I just knew it was the best. I was awash in a sea of pretty things and I was the prettiest. This couldn't be real.

I looked up, past the marble arches, to the high domed ceiling three or four stories up. I could just make out some golden walkways, seemingly floating in midair. A few little heads with pointy ears peeked out over the edge, watching me. I blew them a kiss, they waved. This was perfect! Smiling ear to ear, I glided out onto the ballroom floor.

The food was delicious, a feast for kings—perfect ham, mashed potatoes with just a hint of garlic, light and fluffy rolls, an immense bowl of chef's salad, and all manner of tempting dishes littered the table, but I had a hunger of a different sort that night. I waved goodbye to the food and headed out into throng, looking for Mr. Right For Tonight.

The guests were all witty and charming and easy on the eyes, but none held my interest for very long. Where was he? The elves hid him in here somewhere, I knew. I just had to find him.

A booming, heavy sound echoed through the crowd, and a swirl of snowflakes shooed guests away from the entrance at the other end of the hall. The large ornate gold-metal doors opened slowly, then closed. My curiosity piqued, I headed to see who had just arrived.

It took some time to cross the dance floor, but soon enough I saw what the fuss was. A half-dozen little fellows with the curly shoes and pointy ears were pulling the harnesses off as many reindeer. The poor creatures looked exhausted; they shook snow from their pelts, hung their heads, and waved their antlers around as the elves patted them down. Well, most of them waved their antlers—a few didn't have any at all. I grinned, pleased to see that the north pole was equal-opportunity.

An elf stepped away from one of the antlerless reindeer, dusting his hands in exaggerated manner, the straps and harness fading away before my eyes. The reindeer reared up on her hind legs and—she was starting to glow! Her figures were indistinct in the light, but the creature seemed to change shape, becoming bipedal.

Her fur got shorter, softer; her hooves flattened and lengthened, becoming fingers; her feet changed, losing the hooves and gaining softer toes, but retaining the digitigrade structure. The reindeer was covered all over in short, brown fur, though the exact color was hard to tell. In a moment, the light faded, and the reindeer was...

Male. Very male. I blushed, shielding my eyes and sending an accusing glance at the elf. He flung his hands into the air in startlement, shook himself a bit, then snapped his fingers at the reindeer. In an instant, the reindeer was wearing a stylish—if somewhat ridiculous—tuxedo. The beast's eyes shone with mirth; he brought his hands up and gave his tie an unnecessary adjustment.

I glared at the elf, but he just shrugged his shoulders and grinned sheepishly. Little bugger probably did that on purpose, I thought to myself. The last thing I needed was the somewhat stubborn image of well-hung reindeer-person private parts in my head. In retrospect, though, I probably should have seen that coming—he hadn't been wearing anything before, so what had I expected?

One by one, the elves backed away, the relieved reindeer changing shape to something more suitable for indoors. Apparently antlers didn't mean what I'd thought they meant—Some of the antlered reindeer had ample female assets, but that just goes to show I didn't watch enough Discovery channel as a kid. The reindeer dispersed into the ballroom, glad to be done with their shift on the sled.

"Ahem." The sudden voice from behind me made me jump, forcing a little 'eep' out of me. I turned around and came face-to-chest with some fancy clothes. I looked up to find the face—muzzle?—of the reindeer I'd inappropriately seen a moment ago. His lips curled... no, not lips, what were they? There was some term for them, but... ah, his lip-things, whatever they were, were pulled ever so slightly up.

My mouth opened a little. The deer-monster was grinning at me! Ooooh, he probably got a kick out of my reaction earlier. Bastard probably liked showing that thing off, and with good reason, it—what was I thinking? I was all muddled, couldn't think straight, and I still hadn't said anything.

Blushing furiously, I extended my hand. "How do you do, mister reindeer?"

He laughed, rich and full, and shook my hand. His powerful fingers wrapped mine easily; the soft fur felt good on my skin. "Much better now, miss human." His voice had a wry tone to it, like he knew something I didn't. I looked up at him, trying to read his expression, but of course failing. It didn't help that he towered over me—the reindeer was six, maybe six and a half feet tall.

"So, uh..." what does one say to a bonafide magic reindeer from the north pole? "What happened to your antlers?" I immediately regretted the question, and my face got even redder. Some ambassador for the human race I made. What if he lost them in some horrible sleigh accident? I might never forgive myself for offending the very first deer-monster I'd ever met.

He chuckled again and shook his head, and I sighed in relief. "They fall out every year around this time. Just haven't grown them back yet. It's a blessing, really. They make a lot of drag." He held his hand out and moved it around like it was flying. I laughed nervously as his hand continued its flight around behind me and stopped on my back. Thankfully, he'd only wanted to push me gently toward the buffet.

I watched him askance, looking at the side of his head as we walked. From the waist up, his profile was mostly human, save the muzzle on his face. "I bet you're starved. Flying all over the world is hard work." I smiled to show I wasn't being sarcastic.

"Oh, no, it's not that at all. I love my job—I only have to work one day a year." He gave a little snort at himself, laughing more at telling such an awful joke than at the joke itself. "It's just that most of us don't eat lunch today to save room for the feast." He licked his chops at the now-near table and seized a plate.

I nodded, silent for a time as he filled his plate with veggies and other such leafy-greens, sampling things here and there. I watched him move, content to marvel at the strange creature before me.

He noticed my attention and looked down at me, his ears twitching quizzically. "What?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "It's just..."

He laughed, unable to keep a straight face. "I know, you've never seen anything like me before. Don't worry, I understand; this is strange for me, too. I'm still trying to get used to wearing this." He held his arms out, looking down at his clothing.

I nodded. "I suppose, you have fur so you don't usually wear anything."

"No, I just don't like wearing a tux." I laughed along with him this time, clinging to his chest for the novelty of it. He didn't seem to mind the extra weight. As sturdy as he was large, it seemed, but he did pull sleighs for a living. "The fur doesn't matter, we like being warm."

He picked a clean table nearby and moved to sat down. I excused myself and fetched a little something to eat from the buffet before rejoining my new reindeer friend. Not that I was hungry—I just didn't want to seem awkward. As it was, I hardly picked at my food; I was too busy taking the opportunity to chat with perhaps the only deer monster I'd ever meet. Life at the north pole, what it was like to fly, what the boss man was like—I asked him everything.

The denizens of the north led an enchanted life, it seemed. They didn't understand why anything worked any better than I did, but they didn't worry about it, accepting without question their role in the world. Here, things were simple, idyllic; everything was as it should be. They made people happy and that was enough for them.

I leaned forward, propping my chin up with both hands, elbows on the table, just listening to his voice. The words, somewhat—he had all sorts of funny stories about Christmases past—but also the feel of it, the deep, pleasant basso that seemed to wrap me up and keep me safe.

After a time, he pushed his plate away and stood, extending a hand down to me. "Would you care to dance?"

"Sure," I answered without thinking. I let him help me up, taking the opportunity to run my thumb over the fur on the back of his hand, exploring the feel of it. I stole a glance at his suit and the well-defined chest I knew was lurking just under the cloth, and wondered for a moment what that might feel like. If he noticed, he gave no sign.

I was led over to the ballroom floor. There was music, here, that hadn't been audible by the tables—some trick of the elves, I supposed. I smiled and held out my hand like a princess in a story; he took it with an exaggeratedly princely motion, grinning slyly. My hand found his shoulder as his found the small of my back. We began to dance.

He moved with a preternatural grace, I soon found—he was lighter on his 'feet' than I was by a substantial margin. I looked up at him, trying to catch his eyes. "Have you done this before?"

He was already looking down at me and met my gaze instantly. "Aye. You have too, from the feel of it. You handle yourself very well."

I blushed a little at the compliment, concentrating on keeping my footing now that I wasn't watching the floor. Looking at him this way seemed to make him closer, somehow; more prominent. My mental picture of the ballroom was shrinking steadily, and soon only encompassed the two of us and the floor we stood on.

"Mm, you smell nice." I heard myself say, and it was true. I could detect just a faint hint of a scent, not cologne, that must have been uniquely his. Something wild, powerful, and just a little coy. Some part of me made a mental note to try to replicate it back home. It'd do very well on the market. I inhaled more of him through my nose, sighing softly.

I thought he'd laugh, but he simply said "Thank you." That knowing rumble was back. Briefly, I wondered if something I drank had been spiked; a pleasant warmth was spreading through my chest and my thoughts kept straying to how his naked fur might feel between my fingers. Exotic wouldn't even begin to cover it. I looked up when he sniffed the air. "You do too," he said.

"That's just the elves." I was too curious—my hand on his shoulder snaked down to the small of his back, then to the bottom of his suitcoat. It slipped under on its own accord, then back up, resting on his back. He was warm! There was the softness of the fur and the strength of his body, but over it all... When he said they liked to be warm, he'd meant it! I worked my hand back and forth a bit, nestling it into his fur.

He made a pleasant sound, a sort of happy rumble that wasn't quite a growl. "No, not the elves. Their perfume is there, but under it is you. I wish they hadn't covered it up." I smiled, vaguely registering the compliment, but concentrating more on the feeling of my hand.

"You know, I don't even know your name." We rocked back and forth slowly, lazily. I rested my face on his chest, enjoying the warmth I could feel even through the fabric.

"Blitzen."

"Really?"

"No," he admitted, a smile in his voice. He tilted his head down, laying his muzzle on the side of my head. "Nobody really has that name anymore." He was speaking softly, his breath was warm on my ear. "But please, call me Blitzen. I like the idea of you thinking of me any time you hear a carol, or see a holiday special, or read a card."

I giggled. "Whatever you say, 'Blitzen'." I rubbed my face against his muzzle, loving the feel of his fur. My hand on his back roamed south, sliding under his belt, suddenly curious if—yes, he did! My fingers dived in, slipping through the fur, playing with his little flag-tail, feeling it twitch under my hand.

The rumble was back. "Ooh, someone's adventurous."

I stopped, worried I'd made a faux pas, when my brain managed to process what my senses were telling me. The ballroom had changed, becoming something more intimate—the floor was still hardwood, but the vast expanse was replaced by a cozy bedroom, complete with crackling fireplace. More shockingly, my hand was down this reindeer-person's pants.

I mumbled something about the restroom and extracted myself. "I'll be waiting!" he called after me, his voice still holding that sensuous basso that pulled me so. I found the wooden door, opened it, and darted inside. I leaned back against it, half to hold it closed and half for it to hold me up.

"Hello, dear!" The kindly woman waved from over by her stove. She was always baking, I knew—Blitzen had told me so. "Having fun?"

I shook my head. "Yes. No. I don't know. Everything's all mixed up." I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I didn't think I had too much wine. Did the elves drug me?"

She laughed, then turned toward me, pulling off her oven mitts. "Nobody's drugged you, Sarah." She tugged me off the door, giving me a friendly hug, then stood me up on my own. "Handsome men can have quite that on young ladies, enchanted handsome men especially so."

I waited for her to continue. "The reindeer can cloud minds. If they're seen, they can make people forget; if they're caught, they can make their captors free them. Just being around them can fog a person something fierce."

"Would he... was he... did he do something to...?"

"Oh, heavens, no! He likes you, yes, but you like him too. He's a perfect gentleman—well, almost, but anything that happened to your head was just from being next to a reindeer. Nothing more." The woman sounded surprised but I had the feeling she'd been expecting my objection.

"But I thought the elves would..." Slowly, realization dawned. "Is he Mr. Right For Tonight?"

She laughed, her grin dimpling those big, rosy cheeks of hers. "Not what you hand in mind, is he?" I shook my head. "It's simple, dear." She put her hands on my shoulders, looking me square in the eye.

"You know you're getting what you wanted most. The question is, 'what did you want?'. I happen to know what you wanted. You didn't just want someone strong and handsome and witty and kindly and all that, though he is those things."

"I didn't?"

"You didn't." She leaned in confidentially. "You wanted someone to take control. Not in a mean way, but in a deserving way, just by being who they were. You wanted something a little different than what you were used to, just a little bit off from what you wanted on the surface.

"Deep down, you wanted to be swept off your feet, sucked in by someone who could change you, someone just different enough to make you pause but who made you randy enough that you didn't care. You wanted someone to steal your wits and take your breath away, and you know what? He's waiting right out there."

She took her hands off me and leaned back, watching me as she continued. "So what if he's not what you're used to? He's what you need. You think you can feel him tugging at you even now, but you can't. It's just your body telling you what you don't want to admit."

I nodded slowly, a little scared. The thing was... I knew she was right. Her advice was enchanted, inerrant. I knew that in a moment I would turn around and walk back out that door. I knew I'd find Blitzen there, probably out of his tux, and I knew my mind would turn to jelly when I got close to him. I knew I'd bury my face in his chest and finally get to feel him all over and inhale his smell and push him back onto the bed and make love to him.

I knew I'd make myself do it, and the knowledge I did / didn't have a choice was making my blood run hot. The woman went back to her baking. Mind made up, I went back to my reindeer. The door opened slower this time.

He was standing there, wearing nothing but boxers, the warm glow of the fire giving his brown fur a golden tint; he looked much like I'd imagined he would. His handsome features were accented by his animal ones, giving him an exotic, otherworldly look. He grinned his little reindeer-grin, barely moving his muzzle, but I saw it. The door closed behind me with a soft click.

I strode across the room, feeling my mind slip further back into that comfortable haze with every step. When we met, my lips locked his muzzle in a passionate kiss; the fur tickled my nose ever so slightly as my mouth opened, my tongue exploring his taste. The sensation sent little goosebumps all over my body; I shuddered in his arms and he squeezed me tighter.

I felt like a schoolgirl again, and that wondrous, carefree feeling only intensified as he hurriedly helped me out of the dress, our kiss only broken to let cloth pass. The material faded away as it hit the ground, forgotten in the passion.

I pressed myself against him, pushing him back to the bed, my hands tugging his boxers down as he worked at my bra. There was still just a little hint of delicious reluctance hiding somewhere in my brain, crying out that good girls weren't supposed to fuck reindeer-monsters, but it was overwhelmed completely by my lust and his haze.

When I felt my panties slide down my legs, I surged my hips forward, rubbing up against his crotch and wanting to feel him on every inch of me. We fell onto the sheets together as I writhed against his naked form, feeling his glorious fur/warmth/strength all over my body, pressing against me, covering me completely.

I pushed myself up, straddling his hips, looking down at that wonderful package. He was already halfway hard; his member lay prominently against the softy, downy fur of his crotch. I slid my hands all over him, exploring him, feeling his sack shift, responding to my touch. I stared unashamedly at his twitching, hardening member; my hands moved down and his powerful tool throbbed under my fingers, even warmer than the rest of him.

I remembered his smell, looked down at his fully erect cock, and suddenly found myself wondering how it might taste. I slid back and leaned forward, gave him a curious lick, then closed my eyes and took him into my mouth; he put his hands behind his head and leaned back, sighing in contentment. His smell was strong here, clouding my mind even further, and I inhaled him deeply. His taste... he tasted like nothing I'd ever experienced and I found myself loving it.

With his cock halfway in my mouth and my hand wrapped around his shaft, I remembered that I didn't like giving oral sex. My head bobbed up and down on his manhood, savoring the flavor, and I couldn't make it stop. He had nothing to do with moan that bubbled up from my very soul. He had made me do it / made me make myself do it. That knowledge spiked my lust higher than it had ever been.

He wasn't interested in a blowjob so much as in giving me what I wanted / making me do what he wanted. I pulled my head back, letting his member slip out of my mouth; a string of saliva connected my lips and his head for a moment or two. I gave him a smoldering stare as I licked my lips, claiming the little precum that had leaked out.

My thoughts were a confused, sexy jumble, but every piece of my mind wanted him inside me. I couldn't tell who was in control anymore—me, because he was giving me what I wanted, or him, because of the hold he had on my mind—and I didn't care.

He sat up and seized me, rolling us over, laying me down on the bed, towering over me as he positioned himself. I moaned his name as his dick teased my entrance, pushing my lips apart as he slid in soooo sllooowwwlly, my fingers pulling him, helping his hot member slide in deeper, so deep, in and in until I could feel the softness of his fur on my skin.

The heat was too much—he was warm, so warm; I pulled him closer, wanting more of him to myself, wanting him to cover me and my mind with his strength/warmth. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling the fur slide along my body, matting him with my sweat, gasping at the amazing tickling feeling on my breasts, humping against him, wanting him deeper inside me / inside my mind. He obliged.

Blitzen leaned forward, pressing me against the bed, thrusting with his hips while his chest pinned me to the sheets, taking more control of my mind for my sake, rewiring me as we rolled our hips together. The reluctant part of my brain faded away, replaced by delicious tingling at the concept of him reworking my mind. He wanted me to think this would be the best sex of my life and it was true because he could make me believe it.

I was close, so close, but I wanted more, wanted something lasting, wanted him to change me forever and not just tonight. Without words, he gave me a simple instruction: I could never tell another soul about him unless he approved it first. It was enough.

I arched into him hard, rolling my eyes back into my head, screaming his name when he made me do it because I wanted to do it anyway. My pussy clamped down on him as he came, rippling along the thick warmth; his dick bucked deeper in`side me than anything had ever been, filling me with his seed as he filled me with his will.

Waves of pleasure pulsed through my body, melding with the heat and strength and fur surrounding me, my stiff and oversensitive nipples sending electric shocks through me every time he moved. Slowly, gently, we came down; he pulled out of me reluctantly and lay by my side.

We stayed there for a few long moments, staring into each other's eyes and basking in the afterglow. I dimly wondered if the night would have to end, but he shifted something inside my head. I smiled as I found myself knowing it was far from over.

"That was, er, unusually graphic, Sarah." Beth set my diary down, looking at me incredulously. "Was this a dream? A Christmas fantasy? I don't quite understand."

I smiled. "You might say that. In truth, I did get what I wanted most for Christmas." I pulled a small metal object from my pocket.

"You wished for a one-night-stand for Christmas?" Beth raised her eyebrow again.

"At first, but that was his wish too." I grinned, all teeth. "I got to re-use mine."

"Uh, I see. That was an... interesting story, Sarah." She shifted in her seat; the dirty story had gotten her excited but she didn't want to admit it. "What's that? A whistle?"

I grinned and blew it, but no sound came out. "A deer whistle." Light flashed and in an instant there was a third person in the room. "After that night, it was what I wanted the most."

Beth's jaw worked soundlessly, but Blitzen just laughed. His nose twitched—her arousal was obvious to him and both of them knew it. He dominated the room, a nude tower of male strength, and both women could already feel his almost-control settling over their minds. He rumbled pleasantly, almost amused. "I can see why you like her."

The doctor wriggled in her chair, but was unwilling or unable to take her eyes off his crotch. "But, but, this is, but—"

Blitzen grinned. "But what? What do you think we do all year round? Sleep?"

I leaned forward, pulling Beth's hair out of the way so I could whisper into her ear. "Beth?"

She didn't reply, still shamelessly staring at Blitzen. The reindeer was beginning to respond to the attention, and I swore I saw Beth lick her lips. "Yes, Sarah?"

"Merry Christmas."