Chapter 3 #2
Before I could reply to Charlotte, Santa Daddy grabbed my wrist, and I was upside-down over one of his thick sturdy thighs.
Luckily, I was wearing lined black tights and a cute sweater dress that was meant for someone taller than me, so it sat at the top on my knees rather than mid-thigh like it was meant to.
Oh, it rode up in this position but that only brought it to my mid-thigh.
My head spun, round and round, and my middle fluttered like it was a shaken snow globe and a million snowflakes danced inside.
I was over this sexy beast of a man’s knee about to be playfully spanked in front of my family, friends and more than a few strangers.
And I couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or a dream come true.
Santa wrapped his right leg over my bent ones, holding me in place just like the men in my fantasies did. And when he wrapped his hand around my hip and tugged me tightly to him, I yelped.
Oh, dear god, someone pinch me because I’ve clearly fallen asleep, and am drunk, in some corner somewhere and having an erotic dream.
“No falling off now, naughty girl,” he ordered roughly, as if I had any control at all.
And that was what made this so fucking delicious, wasn’t it?
I had no control. I could enjoy it without being held responsible for asking to be spanked.
Or made fun of because I wanted it more than my next breath.
Santa Daddy smacked my bottom in a pop that was in time with the music which had been turned back up, and I lurched a little on his lap.
“So naughty one, care to tell Santa Daddy what got you on his naughty list and earned you this little spanking?”
I swallowed hard as another smack landed and I tried my hardest to ignore the liquid heat pooling in my center and the swirling of my head.
“Um…” The world spun, my cheeks heated, and my bottom buzzed, but even more noticeable than all that was how every time Santa Daddy smacked his palm off my backside, my clit vibrated and that made my pussy ache for Santa Daddy’s… Christmas package.
“Um’s not a very good answer.” He chuckled, his rumbling voice seemingly directly connected to my pussy.
“Maybe it’s that this has been my fantasy for a long, long time,” I admitted to my own bewilderment.
He paused, his hand still on my bottom. He circled his big palm and my eyes almost rolled back in my head. Lower, my kitty screamed. Rub lower!
“You’ve fantasized about getting a spanking from Santa?” he asked, his voice low enough for only the two of us to hear. And while I was drunk, I thought his voice might’ve gone a bit deeper and raspier when he asked.
Everyone around us was still cheering and dancing as the elves handed out shots— delivering them in very sexy ways.
“Spanked, tied to his sleigh… bed, him delivering me his package...” I let my words trail off and I shrugged. Somehow through my alcoholic haze, I could hear my brain screaming for me to shut up, shut up, shut up! But I ignored it.
“Do you fantasize about the Easter Bunny, too?” He laughed but it was so throaty and sexy, I didn’t mind. Actually, I wanted to flip over on his lap, do my first ever crunch, and taste his sexy mouth.
“Nope. Just Santa, and Daddies in general.”
“It’s always the quiet ones,” he murmured with a deep chuckle and gave my ass another slap, harder this time, as if knowing exactly what I wanted.
“The Santa thing is sexy and fun, but kind of optional really. I mean this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of fun, but I’ve always wanted a Daddy Dom.
Not that I’ve ever experienced it, or anything kinky like that…
mmm.” I ended my rambling with a throaty moan because he kept spanking me harder and I loved the sting his palm left of my ass.
I whimpered a little then as his hand started to massage me in between spanks.
“You sure know what you’re doing,” I blurted breathily.
“How much have you had to drink, young lady?” He moved me swiftly until my bottom was perched on his sturdy thigh, my nether region buzzing hot, hot, hot.
“Why? You gonna raise up my dress and lower my tights and panties and spank me for real, Santa Daddy?” I giggled but it made me hiccup, or maybe that was his serious look—brow arched and a grumpy, frowny mouth.
“That’s exactly what you need. And when you’re good and sorry for your naughty behavior, you deserve a different kind of licking.” Heat flared in his eyes, and they no longer looked so stormy gray-blue. The looked a deeper shade of blue, sort of like a bottomless sea.
I swallowed hard. His words paired with his serious heated gaze made everything in me pound with need.
“Okay ladies,” The elf with the microphone spoke up and the music lowered. “It looks like Santa’s done punishing this naughty girl.” He looked at both of us, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Has she been forgiven and moved back onto the nice list, Santa Daddy?”
My eyes swung to Santa, and I blinked at him, wondering what he planned to say. His beautiful lips curved up into a smile.
“She has!”
The ladies cheered. The elves cheered. Charlotte squealed and clapped. But Santa Daddy pointed to a pillow someone placed next to his throne. I looked at it.
“Go on, sit. I won’t tolerate any more disobedience now.”
I swallowed and kneeled on the plush red pillow. Santa Daddy snapped, and Bo bounced over handing him a pair of fur-lined handcuffs, which Santa Daddy proceeded to put on one of my wrists. The other cuff he clipped to his throne.
He winked at me, and it felt filthy, and then he whispered, “So you can’t get away and I can keep an eye on you.”
That little comment felt real, not like it was part of the show, because right after his voice became loud and he spoke directly to the audience.
“So little girl, tell me, what is it you want for Christmas?” I knew it was part of the show, but when he looked back down at me, his eyes were still flaring heat that was too hot for it to be pretend.
I looked at the group of women and wiggled my brows, playing along, and then he leaned down closer to me, and I whispered, “You.”
“A dance, you say?” he replied in that booming voice and then he whispered back. “Later, I’ll give you a gift that gives all night long, but you need to sober up first.”
He went on to hand out little vibrators made to look like candy canes to every woman that came up to sit on his lap. And at the end he looked like he might hand me one, but he pocketed it instead.
“I’ll give this to you a little later, young lady.”
By the end of the night, I had sobered up enough to be standing next to Santa Daddy at the curb out front of my sister’s workplace where we waited for my ride.
“I’m only trusting you with my baby sister because I know you do this for charity and that makes you a good guy.
” Madeline jabbed a red-tipped finger into Santa Daddy’s chest. “But also, because you’ve been on camera all night and if anything happens to my Memmy, I’ll hunt you down and there’ll be nothing left but a tuft of white fur. ”
I leaned around the six-foot-plus Santa Daddy and watched Madeline walk to the next car where she loaded a very drunk Lottie, The Hottie Bride, into it.
“She’s protective,” he observed.
“She is. But she’s also protective of my sexual satisfaction.” I shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “Nothing to worry about as long as you give me an orgasm. Two and she might invite you for Christmas dinner.”
He let out a huff of a laugh. I giggled, still sans inhibitions obviously. And we both stared at each other intently until a car pulled up and the window rolled down.
“Either of you Memmy?”