"We have a bit of a problem, the way I see it. Now, Santa knows what to do with naughty children—he gives them lumps of coal in their stocking. But, what does one do with a naughty Mrs. Claus?"
Her heart was racing, a bead of sweat formed on her upper lip. Her mouth went dry. It was the moment of truth. What would Mase say next?
He was quiet, and he looked for just a sliver of a moment, as uncertain as she felt. The tension was high. You could actually feel it sizzling in the air between them.
"I don't know," she whispered in answer to his question—even though it was a lie. She did know. At least, she knew what she wanted to happen.
Fortunately Mason recovered from his uncertainty long before she would have, and keeping on with his Santa voice, reasoned, "I'm sure you are much too mature to be bothered by a lump of coal in your stocking, but, this is where we run into a dilemma. You can't be let off scot free with no consequence. How would you ever learn to do better?" He was fully in character now, rubbing his beard for effect as he mused. "No, a mature but naughty young woman such as yourself needs a special consequence, something tangible, that will leave a bit of a lasting reminder."
She was this close to hyperventilating as she stared into his twinkling eyes. If he didn't spank her after this, she was not sure she would ever fully forgive him. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forced herself to formulate a coherent response. "That makes sense. What did you have in mind?" Her voice sounded thick, and husky, even to her own ears.
A moment's hesitation flashed across Mason's confident features. If she would have blinked, she might have missed it, but she was looking and it was there, plain as day, even from under the beard.
"Well," his voice hitched, croaking a bit before he continued, "historically speaking, the best course of effective retribution for a naughty girl such as yourself, is, uh, a spanking." The last word was rushed, and she watched with delight as her stoic husband flushed with embarrassment. She wouldn't let him suffer.
"That does seem like a fair option," she mused. "Historically speaking, I mean. I'm sure there is much evidence to back up your claim."
The relief on his face was evident, as he cleared his throat, and tried to stay in character. "Indeed," he blustered. "A red bottom has always been the most effective remedy for a naughty heart."
"Okay, then," she agreed with a calmness that belied her pounding heart and sweaty palms. "Let's get on with it; I mean, uh, whatever you think is best." The foible was intentional, a clever slip of the tongue to let her husband know she really was fully on board with his plan, and give him the boost he would need to continue.
"All right then, stand up, and place yourself across my lap." She stood, and Mason scooted down the couch, positioning himself dead center, before taking her hand, and guiding her gently across his knees.
Her skirts lifted, petticoats and all, and Mase's large hands cupped her bottom. Although she couldn't see his face, she knew instinctively that the wizened old Santa was gone at the moment and in his place, was her Mason, wondering just what in the hell he had gotten himself into. She was wondering the same thing.
"Ahem." Mase cleared his throat loudly, and his voice deepened. "Tell Santa why you deserve a spanking."
"Oh!" Becca was flustered at the question. She hadn't been expecting him to say anything further. "Oh, I, um, Santa, sir. I was very nice, but I had very, very naughty thoughts."
"I see. And what exactly was the nature of these thoughts?"
"Well, sir, this was the nature of them. I mean, exactly this; I often dreamed and fantasized about my husband seeing fit to spank my naughty bottom."
"I... What—really?" Mase paused and she swore she heard him mutter under his breath, something along the lines of 'Damn you, Cole.'
Mase had dropped character at her confession, and the fact made her more than a little nervous. Maybe she hadn't needed to be quite so honest, but what was done was done.
"Well, then, you are certainly deserving of what is coming to you, aren't you? Those are very naughty thoughts indeed." After a second's pause, he'd jumped right back into his role of determined Santa disciplinarian.
The cold air in the cabin brushed her skin as her tights and panties were lowered, coming to rest right above her knees.
"Well, young lady, Santa is going to set fire to your tail, and we're going to see to it that your thoughts stay pure in this coming year. Santa doesn't like to do repeat performances, but he will if it proves necessary. So I would suggest, that you focus your thoughts on making sure this lesson sinks in, understand?"
She nodded fervently. At the moment she couldn't have spoken if she wanted to. His inherently stern nature made him a natural at this spanking stuff, even as a game, and his latest reprimand had her lady parts gushing.
"I didn't hear you," Mason stated firmly.
"Yes, sir!" Becca squeaked.
"That's 'Santa, sir', to you," he said with a deep chuckle. "See that you remember."
His hands had remained splayed across her ass throughout the exchange, and when they finally lifted, she thought her brain might explode from the anticipation. The thought was short lived, as the pain exploded across her backside with a mighty crack that took her breath away.
For a reluctant spanker, and a novice one at that, Mason made short work of warming her up from the outside in, roasting her bottom with the same stubborn determination, which he applied to everything he did.
His hand fell flat and was as hard as any paddle would have been, she imagined. He worked her poor bottom up on side and down the other, and she should have been shrieking in pain, or at least offering some sort of resistance, but for the most part, she lay completely still and silent. It was partly the mix of hormones and adrenaline, and partly the fear that if she protested, he would stop too soon, mixed with the strong desire to just enjoy and soak in the entire experience. God knew when it would happen again, or even if it ever would.
It hurt, as he was not being gentle by any means, but eventually her bottom numbed, and the stinging pain that had engulfed her in the beginning settled into a warm cozy glow. She had the sensation that this was not too bad of a position to be in and if it wasn't for the blood rushing to her head, she could easily stay here happily all night while he just pounded away at her tail end. Then he moved the assault to her sit spots, and all comfort, as well as any rational thought, went straight out the window.
"Ow! Ow! Owie! Mason, stop! Oh my hell! Stop—it hurts!"
"It's supposed to hurt, and it's about time it got a reaction out of you. I was beginning to wonder if you had a titanium butt or something."
If her ass wasn't suddenly up in flames, she might have giggled. Her husband was so rarely sarcastic, that his humor was a rare treat.
He didn't stop, though. If anything, he began to spank harder, and lower, smacking across the tops of her thighs until she cried out. All of a sudden, the nice numbing that she had had going on previously, stopped, and pain exploded from the top of her bottom to the tops of her thighs without warning.
"Ow, ow, ow," she sobbed into the soft red velvet of his pants, as the fight left her. She felt as if she was floating on air. Mase was still spanking, but it was like she was having an out of body experience now, breathing through the pain, the rhythmic meeting of hand on bare bottom was creating a lulling effect, and her eyes grew heavy.
Mason was saying something, but she couldn't make out his words. The spanking stopped, and she instantly felt bereft. Large hands massaged her aching flesh, eliciting soft moans, until she slowly floated back down to reality.
"Wow," she breathed as Mason helped pull her back into a sitting position on the couch beside him. "That was... intense."
"It really was," he agreed. Mason was nearly breathless himself and his face glowed with a sheen of sweat. You would have thought he had been the one to be spanked, as hellish as he looked. "Are you okay, though?"
"I am." Becca sighed, lost in her own musings, replaying the experience al
ready in her mind. "Are you?"
"Surprisingly, yes. I wasn't sure how I would feel, but, I have to tell you, it was almost exhilarating. I mean, as long as it's for fun. I could never do what Cole and Angel do, but I could do this."
"You could?" God help her, her ass was on fire. She was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, but hearing Mase say that he would do it again, put everything right in her world. She sighed as she leaned against him, not caring that the leather couch was chafing her bare ass, or that her panties and stockings were still bunched around her knees.
They lay there spent, collapsed together for a few moments before Mase straightened, jolting upright. "Hey! You never answered my first question!"
Becca stared at him blankly, uncomprehending.
"What do you want for Christmas?"
"Oh," she giggled. "I think I just got it."
"Well, what do you want for next Christmas? I need ideas ahead of time," he insisted. "I'm terrible at Christmas shopping, or gift shopping in general."
Becca laughed, because she knew it was true. She was still floating, her inhibitions gone, and she was feeling like she could say or do anything, whatever she felt, consequences be damned.
"Next Christmas? I want a baby."
To her surprise, his eyes lit up, and he began to nod, with the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I think I might be able to handle that," he said, shifting so that he was no longer underneath her, but instead leaning over her. "If we get to work on it right now. These things take time, you know."
"Oh." She squirmed. "Yes, sir."
"That's 'Santa, sir' to you."
The End
Rayanna Jamison
Rayanna Jamison has always dreamed of becoming an author. She credits a big move from Oregon to Utah in 2013 as the catalyst that finally began her writing career. She now lives in Southern Utah with her husband, two children, two dogs, and her mother. She writes what she loves to read, which is fun romantic stories about submission in its many forms. When she is not writing, she enjoys reading, cooking, crafting, and shopping, and that's just in her spare time. When the kids and husband are home, she can be found baking with her daughter, watching her son and his friends, and hosting neighborhood block parties. She loves exploring her new area, and finding fun new things to do with her family.
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Rayanna Jamison and Blushing Books!
Santa, Sir
A Holiday Ruse
Bride Too Soon
The Prodigal Bride
A Perfect Partnership
Other Uses for a Wooden Spoon
Ginger UP
Ebook Offer
WOULD YOU LIKE A FREE SPANKING STORY EVERY MONTH?
At http://www.blushingbooks.com, we provide our visitors with a free eBook every single month! That's right, every month we choose an eBook to give to our customers at no charge, both to show our gratitude for your business and to provide a sample of the content we offer.
Can you read this free eBook on your Kindle? Yes! Once you’re logged onto our site, it’s easy to send a book right to your Kindle.
Can you read it on your iPad? Yes! Your Kobo? Yes! Your Nook? YES!
We provide all of our books on BlushingBooks.com in several formats so that you can read our stories on virtually any reader! Membership at BlushingBooks.com is free, so sign up today and get your free story right now!
DO YOU NEED A TRIP TO THE WOODSHED?
Since 1999, Bethany's Woodshed has been publishing the best romantic and erotic BDSM and spanking fiction on the Internet. Before there were eBooks, there was Bethany's! More than a decade later, The Woodshed is Blushing Books exclusive preview site, and it is still going strong delivering the best, original stories – now with two updates a week. We guarantee at least 40,000 words of brand new, professionally written stories each week by all your favorite authors, plus at least 20 completed books when you join. Carolyn Faulkner, Maren Smith, Starla Kaye, Paige Tyler, Joannie Kay, Abigail Webster, Sullivan Clarke, Fiona Wilde, Breanna Hayse, Melinda Barron, Courage Knight, Loki Renard... they're all here, plus many more.
Embrace the spank!
See the stories first at The Woodshed!
http://www.herwoodshed.com
Blushing Books Newsletter
Please join the Blushing Books newsletter
to receive updates & special promotional offers:
http://goo.gl/GYTwKZ
You can also join by using your mobile phone:
Just text BLUSHING to 22828.
Blushing Books
is one of the oldest eBook publishers on the web. We've been running websites that publish spanking and BDSM related romance and erotica since 1999, and we have been selling eBooks since 2003. We hope you'll check out our hundreds of offerings at http://www.blushingbooks.com.
You might also enjoy our membership site at http://www.herwoodshed.com, where we offer an exclusive first look at new novels and novellas by some of our most popular authors before they are released anywhere else.
Santa, Sir (Blushing Books 12 Days of Christmas 6) Page 4
