The Naughty List
Author’s Note: thanks to Tanya Delgado on Facebook for the inspiration for this story
“That time of year, is it?” Hugo observed as he placed his tray on the table in front of the chair next to Gerry’s.
“What, Christmas?”
The company cafeteria was certainly decorated for the holidays, though Gerry would call it more of a generic winter theme than Christmas specifically.
But he didn’t have time to care about political correctness right now.
He didn’t have time to think about Christmas in any way, not about the gifts he needed to buy or the plans he needed to make.
All his attention was focused on shoveling french fries into his face as fast as possible.
“No,” Hugo said after a meaningful look intended to convey that he’d noticed Gerry’s lack of table manners. “I meant year-end bonus season.”
Gerry grimaced. He and Hugo had been co-workers until Hugo had taken a lateral transfer to Audit earlier this year, which meant Hugo now had the luxury of passing judgement on other people’s work instead of doing any work himself.
But while Hugo might be relieved of the annual struggle to meet a year’s worth of quotas in a month’s worth of work, Gerry was deep in the weeds.
“If you put in a steady amount of work all year, you wouldn’t have to go through this every December,” Hugo said, rather officiously.
He was perfect for Audit because he always had an opinion on what everyone else ought to be doing.
Normally Gerry found his bossiness kind of attractive, but at the moment he wanted to smack the smug expression off Hugo’s handsome face.
The two of them had never dated, even though they were both gay and out.
It had seemed too messy, dating a co-worker, when they first met, and now that three years had passed, Gerry had probably been firmly friend-zoned.
Which was a shame because Hugo had exactly the sort of firm yet bulky physique Gerry found most attractive, like a Daddy, except his own age and missing the beard. Hugo would look great in a beard.
“What?” Hugo asked.
“Nothing.” Gerry stuffed a final fry in his face and rose to leave.
“I just got here.”
“I gotta get back to work. You know what it’s like.”
“I know what you’re like. Your time management skills are shit. Someone ought to teach you some discipline.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Gerry smirked at his friend, kind of wishing Hugo would try. He knew his time management skills were shit. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
He put in a reasonable afternoon’s work, focusing for a change, then went home and ate and showered and sat down at his desk with resolution. A few more hours of work before bed. He could do it. All he had to do was not…
But he was so stressed, and he’d been so good all day.
He hadn’t watched a single video. Hadn’t scrolled through pictures on Twitter, had barely even thought about hot men with strong forearms and what one of them might do to him, aside from those few moments with Hugo.
Would it be so bad to watch one teeny-weeny little video and blow a quick load before settling down to work?
He reminded himself that he knew how it would go.
Post-orgasm Gerry never wanted to do anything except sleep.
Or maybe go for round two and then round three and then sleep.
Post-orgasm Gerry never got a damned thing done, which explained why present-day Gerry needed to do a year’s worth of work in a month.
But his cock was hard and clamorous in his fuzzy pajamas, and it won, as it always did.
He opened a new tab on his laptop—not to his work file but to his favorite hard-hitting PornyFans star’s page.
He’d just started a video and was about to slide a hand under the waistband of his pajama pants when his doorbell rang.
He ignored it because who was he expecting? No one. But it rang a second time and, figuring he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on the guys on the screen until he got rid of the guy at the door, he went over and peeked through the peephole.
Santa?
Why was someone in a Santa suit standing in the hallway outside his apartment door holding an official-looking scroll? The someone-in-a-Santa-suit was on the lean side for Santa, but his beard was magnificent. And he was, for some reason, wearing sunglasses. Like a cool surfer dude Daddy Santa.
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing Gerry had ever done, but he opened the door.
“Gerry Jones?” Santa asked with a quick glance at his scroll. He had a deeply resonant voice, very suitable for a cool surfer dude Daddy Santa, and he wore pristine white gloves on his over-sized hands. Those hands could do something to a guy.
Santa stalked resolutely inside, Gerry being so focused on ogling the guy’s hands that he momentarily forgot he shouldn’t allow strange men into his apartment. Santa went straight to Gerry’s armchair and sat in it as if he were laying claim to a throne.
“You got a present for me?” Gerry asked flirtatiously. He didn’t know why a guy dressed in a Santa suit had shown up on his doorstep, but he could work with it. He’d been about to yank one out anyway, and some Santa action sounded temptingly kinky.
“Do you think you deserve a present, Gerry? It says here you’re on the naughty list.” Santa furled up the scroll and tucked it in his boot.
“Aw, come on, Santa. I’m a good boy. No stealing, no fighting, brush my teeth every night.”
“According to my intelligence, you’ve been slacking at work.”
“Oh, that. Well, who doesn’t goof off at work?”
“According to my intelligence, it’s not so much a problem of goofing off as it is of jerking off.”
Gerry’s mouth fell open.
“Using company resources even.”
If Gerry’s jaw could go any lower, it would.
“How did you… um…? Are you from Human Resources?”
“I’m Santa, Gerry. I know when you’ve been good and bad. I know when you’re asleep. And I know when you’ve been wanking.”
Gerry didn’t think that was how the lyrics to Santa Claus Is Coming To Town went, but that wasn’t really the point right now.
The point was that a stranger in a Santa suit had come to his apartment to accuse him, rightfully, of watching porn using company resources and pleasuring himself on company time.
Never mind being on the naughty list. He could get fired for this.
“Listen, Santa.” Gerry drifted across his living room floor toward Santa’s throne.
“I’m sorry about that. Not that I’m admitting it happened.
” Santa was wearing a lot of heavy clothes.
He might have a recording device stashed under there.
“But if it did happen, I’m sorry about it and I won’t do it again. ”
“You’re doing it right now. You’re supposed to be catching up on work, but instead you’re watching porn.”
He was about to ask how Santa knew that, but just then a particularly loud moan echoed down the hall from the spare bedroom where he’d left his laptop running that video. The moan was followed by a resounding crack and then an even louder moan.
“I should turn that off.”
Santa nodded.
Gerry scurried for the spare bedroom. He closed the PornyFans tab, leaving only the work tabs open, then sidled more slowly back to the living room, hoping Santa might have vacated now that he’d made his point, but nope.
The bulky figure in black leather boots and a full white beard sat right where Gerry had left him with his arms crossed disapprovingly across his chest.
“I’ll do better,” Gerry said. “Thanks for coming and, um, setting me straight. And now I’ll do better.”
“Good boys get presents. Bad boys get…” Santa left the sentence hanging.
“Coal?” Gerry tried.
“Spankings,” Santa corrected. He flexed his meaty right hand in its impressively white glove, then patted his lap.
“But I don’t want a spanking.”
That was, of course, not true. The video he’d been watching had been a spanking video, as evidenced by some of the noises that had leaked down the hallway. They were all spanking videos. Which, if Santa had access to Gerry’s browser history, he knew.
Santa smiled. It wasn’t a jolly smile, not a smile of good Christmas cheer. No, it was more of an evil smile, one that suggested Santa would enjoy giving a bad boy what he deserved.
He patted his lap. Gerry shook his head.
“I suppose there are other ways we could handle your transgressions.” Santa reached for the scroll and Gerry booked it across the room before a list of his transgressions made an appearance. He really didn’t want his behavior reported to HR. But did he want to get spanked?
Maybe.
But maybe not.
He enjoyed watching, yes, but he’d never actually participated, and something about the size of Santa’s hands and the gleaming whiteness of Santa’s gloves and malevolence of Santa’s grin suggested he might not enjoy participating as much as he enjoyed imagining.
“But what if it hurts?” he asked as he eyed Santa’s festively costumed lap.
“Oh, it’s going to hurt,” Santa promised. “Now get your butt over here.” He patted his red velvet thigh.
Gerry eased his way into position with reluctant slowness until Santa got tired of his shenanigans and manhandled him face down and ass up.
Which was pretty fucking hot. Santa didn’t skimp on his workouts.
His thighs were solid beneath that red velvet, and his hands were as strong as Gerry had imagined.
No sooner did Gerry find himself draped over Santa’s lap than he felt a cool breeze over his backside.
“Ack!” He scrambled a hand backward to try to arrest the slide of his fuzzy pajama bottoms down his thighs. “Santa!”
“Bad boys get bare-bottom spankings,” Santa said, unmoved by Gerry’s attempts to pull the pants back up.
“And you’ve been a very, very bad boy. I’ve been itching to punish you all year, and now the time has arrived.
” He patted Gerry’s bare ass cheeks lightly.
“You have an attractive bottom, Gerry. I’m going to enjoy turning it as red as my coat. ”