Santa Daddy (Fantastical Daddy Doms Book 3)

by Allysa Hart

  “Wait! Wait, wait! What are you doing?”

  “Well, that’s a silly question, little elf.”

  “But, this isn’t right. You didn’t do it this way this morning!”

  “Oh, you mean because I spanked you over your jammies first this morning? Well, I hate to break it to you, but not all spankings are created equal. That was your first one, and I was being nice. But you were given a lot of chances tonight, little one, and yet here we are. So, we will begin on the bare this time.” I grabbed her wrists and held them in my hand, pinning them to the small of her back, out of my way. “Maybe it will make a more lasting impression.” I looked over her backside, examining it for any remnants from this morning’s spanking, but as I had expected, there were none. I had a fresh canvas to paint. I rubbed my hand over her milky-white skin, and goose bumps rose on her flesh.

  “Please don’t spank me,” she whimpered weakly, but with her hands pinned, there was no fight. She lay limply over my knee and waited.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself before I begin?”

  She shook her head, but I could hear her thoughts. She was yelling at herself to say something, but stayed silent until the first smack.

  “Ow! Shit! No, no, no!” She scrambled to get away, but I didn’t let her gain an inch, laying down five more swats before I addressed her.

  “You will watch your mouth, or I will stick a bar of soap in it. Do you understand me?”

  I peppered her with six more swats to make my point before she could answer. She protested and squirmed.

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I understand. Stop!”

  “We haven’t even started yet, little elf. I am very disappointed in your behavior, and you are going to be a very thoroughly chastised little girl once we are finished here.”

  “But you made your point!” she hollered, squirming as if I was actually going to let her get loose of my grasp. “I get it! I’m sorry. I promise! I’ll be nice, and I’ll obey!”

  “I don’t think you do get it. If you did, you would know you aren’t in control here, little one. There is nothing you can do or say to make me stop before I’m ready. And you are not even close to how sorry you need to be.”

  I started spanking again, this time concentrating a few swats at a time to the same spot before moving on to the next. She kicked her feet and arched her back, trying to gain some leverage to get away. “You aren’t going anywhere, little elf. Maybe you should concentrate your efforts elsewhere. Like perhaps on formulating a proper apology.”

  “I can’t concentrate on anything with you hitting me!”

  “I am not hitting you. I am spanking your naughty bottom.” I stopped for a minute, giving her a chance to catch her breath before starting again with renewed vigor. This time I had the promised and dreaded spoon.

  Taking a moment to admire the slender bamboo spoon I had found among her kitchen utensils, I smacked it hard against her sit spots, first on one side and then the other. And then I waited for the protests that I knew would come.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow! What in the ever-loving…?” She turned to glare over her shoulder, her mouth dropping when she saw the offending implement. “Nooo! Not fair! Your hand hurts enough!”

  “I told you that if you did not obey, I would be using the spoon. A Daddy always does what he says.”

  She groaned and kicked her feet but did not argue any further. Instead, she turned away, hung her head, and braced herself for what was coming.

  This spanking wasn’t really about disrespect or bratting, and I suspect she knew that, whether she was willing to admit it or not.

  It was about giving in to that little girl inside her. I couldn’t really blame her for bratting, and I guess part of me had wanted her to do it because I knew what the end result would be. I wasn’t sure how I had become such an expert on Littles and Daddy Doms, but it was another job perk. I just seemed to know the things I needed to know. And I knew a meeting with the dreaded wooden spoon would do the trick. A spoon was like a Little’s kryptonite. The implement they loved to hate, and the one that brought them crashing into little space, and when wielded correctly, kept them there.

  That’s the result I was hoping for, and I didn’t plan on stopping until I achieved it. Crystal was stubborn as all get-out, but she was also tired and hovering right on the cusp of giving in completely. It shouldn’t take long to reduce her to the sweet six-year-old I knew lived inside her.

  Determined to prove my point, I picked up the pace and the power in my swing. The wooden spoon cracked against the pinkened skin without pattern or mercy, again and again.

  She squirmed and cried out, and gasped for air between the swats, which were falling hard and fast against the fleshy center of her rounded cheeks. I loved every peep she made, and the way she squirmed against my lap had me hard and aching with need, but I didn’t let on.

  I heard her soft gasp when the dam of tears broke, and she finally let loose. I slowed but didn’t stop.

  “Stop,” she whimpered. “Please stop.”

  I could tell the cries were coming from a place deep within her, beyond her control. She was growing desperate, saying whatever she could to stop the spanking from continuing. But she wasn’t done yet.

  “I will not stop,” I informed her, firmly cracking the spoon hard against the crease between her bottom and thighs. The sit spots. That ought to do it. “I will keep going until I am certain that my little girl has been thoroughly chastised for her testing and naughty behavior and has fully received the message that her Daddy does what he says.”

  “I get it! I do!” she sniveled, writhing against me.

  I stilled the spoon for a second, creating a false sense of security before letting go with a fresh barrage of swats, first on the left cheek and then on the right. “I don’t think you do.”

  “I do! I do! I do! I’m sorry! I promise! I won’t test you anymore, and I know when you say something you mean business, and I’ll try my best to obey and enjoy!”

  “Good girl,” I murmured, continuing my onslaught. There was one more word I wanted to hear break from those pretty little lips before I could rest assured that my mission had hit its mark.

  “Please, Daddy!” she gasped, when I moved my attention back to her sit spots. “Please, Daddy. I’m sorry! I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

  I slowly eased my tempo, bringing the swats down in strength and quickness while I listened to her cry out apologies and promises between quiet gasping sobs.

  When her cries fell silent so did my spoon.

  Her bottom was red and hot to the touch. I pulled her panties and leggings up and lifted her into my lap, holding her tight as I waited for her tears to subside. Cleaning her face with a handkerchief, I kissed her forehead.

  “You’re a good girl, little elf.”

  “Then w-why did you s-spank me?”

  I stood her in front of me so that I could see her face. Using the pad of my thumbs, I wiped away the last few tears that had escaped. “Because even good girls need reminders that their Daddies are going to hold them to a certain standard. Daddies have to be strong and unrelenting. Trust me, I would much rather spoil you than spank you, little one, but unfortunately, with me, you can’t have one without the other. Come on, I’ll help you get dressed for bed.”

  “I can do it.” Her face was a mask of uncertainty, like she wanted me to help, but didn’t want to give in that fully.

  “I want to take care of you. Will you let me help you, please?” I posed it as a question on purpose because I wanted her to know it was her choice. If she did not want me to see her in a state of undress in this stage of our relationship, I would fully understand.

  She shifted from foot to foot, and for the first time ever I felt like I was invading her privacy by listening to her thoughts so I stopped.

  “I guess if you want to,” she whispered.

  “Thank you, little elf.”

  I snapped a Christmas nightgown into my hands, and she giggled. It was
green and had smiling Christmas trees all over.

  “That is ridiculous.”

  “I know, and you will look ridiculously cute wearing it. Arms up.”

  She obediently raised her arms straight over her head, and I swept her shirt up and off her body. I tried to avert my eyes, and not notice the curves of her hips or the swell of her breasts, but I was no saint. I am going to need a cold shower once she is in bed for the night, I thought, rushing to shimmy the nightgown I had chosen over her head.

  “There, all nice and cozy,” I said, as I straightened it. Go brush your teeth and get ready for bed, and I will get ready to read you a bedtime story.”

  “A bedtime story? Really? My mom used to read to me every night, but that stopped when I was like six.”

  “Well, you are six this weekend, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, right.” She giggled a little and smiled. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

  “It’s not weird at all. Now, go get ready for bed.”

  As soon as she left the room, I snapped my fingers and changed into my own pajamas and pulled back her covers. By the time I got myself comfortable in the bed, she was emerging from the bathroom with a look of contentment on her face.

  “You look like you belong there.”

  “I feel like I belong here. Not necessarily here in this bed, but with you, wherever that may be.” I patted the bed next to me. “I have my favorite Christmas book of all time here, ready for us to read. You, my little elf, are in for a treat.”

  She climbed into the bed, and I covered her up, making sure to tuck in the sides so that she was nice and snug.

  I picked up the book and started to read. “‘Twas the night before Christmas…”

  “Hey I know this one!” she announced excitedly.

  “Well good, but this is the special Santa version that my great-grandfather wrote, so listen closely.” I continued reading. The book was close to the original poem with a few of the words changed to make it readable from Santa’s perspective.

  Crystal laid her head on my shoulder and listened intently, giggling when I exaggerated the Santa parts, especially when I ho-ho-hoed loudly.

  “The end.” I closed the book and kissed the top of her head. “How are you feeling, little one?”

  “I think I’m tired now.” She yawned as she said it, and her eyelids drooped.

  “Oh good.” I started to stand and tiptoe from the room, but she grabbed my arm before I could leave the bed.

  “Do you really go down people’s chimneys?”

  “I will.”

  “With a giant sack of toys?”

  “I don’t know about giant, but yes, I will carry a sack.”

  “Wait, what do you mean ‘will’? You’ve never done it before?”

  “Nope. This Christmas will be my first run as Santa, hopefully.”

  “Hopefully?”

  “Sleep, little elf. You can ask all the questions you want tomorrow.” Once again, I rose from her bed and tucked the blanket around her, calling Dixie up to cuddle.

  Crystal’s eyes were already half-closed when the fluffy dog climbed up to settle at her feet. Taking a moment to breathe in the picture she made, I leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. This woman was to be my wife, and I wasn’t sure exactly when I’d started to fall in love with her, but in this moment, when I looked at her, I knew I was looking at my future. I was head over heels.

  I shut off her side-table lamp and quietly padded toward the door, but before I left her room, I remembered one last thing.

  “Little elf?” I asked quietly, in case she had already nodded off to dreamland.

  “Hmm?” she responded sleepily.

  “What did you whisper in Mall Santa’s ear? What did you ask him for?”

  A sweet smile illuminated her features, barely visible in the darkness. She rolled onto her side, turning her back to me, and grabbed her new Santa bear from the edge of the bed, pulling him into her arms. I thought she wouldn’t answer, and I turned to leave. I had one hand on the doorknob when her soft, sleepy voice filled the room.

  “I told him that all I wanted for Christmas was you.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “That’s all I want, too, little elf,” I whispered.

  I woke up the next morning feeling lighter and freer than I ever remember feeling. I was very surprised to find that my bottom was still a bit sore and tender to the touch as I shifted in bed, but the memory of the spanking put a smile on my face. Yawning, I sat up and stretched, wondering what the day had in store. Yesterday had been full of surprises, and I found myself excited to see what my Santa Daddy would come up with next. I quickly dressed and pulled my hair into a ponytail. The smell of cinnamon permeated the air, and I let my nose and growling stomach lead me to the source.

  “Oh my God. I’m going to weigh a thousand pounds if you keep feeding me like this,” I groaned when I caught sight of the heaping tray of fresh cinnamon rolls.

  Santa smiled. “You could use a little meat on those bones.”

  I shook my head, wondering how early he had risen to bake, or if he had conjured these up with a snap of his fingers. “Do you even sleep?”

  “Sure I do. I don’t need many hours, especially this time of year when there is so much to be done. Did you sleep well, little elf?”

  I felt a pang of guilt that I was keeping him from his work, but then I reminded myself that the weekend was his idea not mine.

  “My father is overseeing my duties right now, little elf. It’s tradition for the first year.”

  “Get out of my head,” I muttered, sitting down at the table.

  “I can’t help it.” Santa chuckled. “Your brain is an interesting place to be.”

  “Didn’t your mom ever tell you it was rude to spy on people like that? It’s a total invasion of privacy.” I was half kidding. I mean, it was kind of strange to think he heard every one of my innermost thoughts, but what could I do about it?

  He chuckled, and I belatedly realized that every time he laughed it sounded more like “ho ho ho.” It was unreal. “No, she hasn’t had the chance. It’s kind of a new thing, a perk to the Santa gig,” he said with a wink, setting a frosted cinnamon bun on a snowflake-shaped plate in front of me. He followed it with a huge mug of cocoa, complete with a small mountain of whipped cream and red and green sprinkles. Setting it down, he kissed the top of my head.

  “Good morning. You didn’t answer my question. How was your night?”

  “Surprisingly restful. This looks delicious.”

  “Fresh from my mother’s oven. I can’t take credit for this one.”

  “I thought ‘real Daddies do things the hard way’?” I lowered the tone of my voice, trying to mimic his baritone timbre.

  “Ha ha, very funny. Me and baking don’t mix. That’s one of the many reasons I need a Mrs. Claus. But I’m still working on that, so I called for backup.”

  “Wait! Your mother is here?” I screeched and looked around in a panic, completely ignoring his Mrs. Claus reference. This weekend so far had been amazing, but I wasn’t ready to think that far ahead.

  “No, silly girl. I teleported the cinnamon buns in. This weekend is about us. There will be plenty of time for you to meet my parents.”

  I chose to ignore that statement and took a generous bite of the yummy breakfast treat. It was as amazing as its scent promised it to be. The cinnamon was prominent but not overpowering, and the inside was baked to perfection. The pastry all but melted in my mouth, and don’t even get me started on the frosting. It was so tasty that I used my finger to get every tiny bite off my plate.

  “Oh my goodness! I think that might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Thank you.” Daddy. It was on the tip of my tongue, but it just stuck there. It had been much easier last night after I got spanked. What the hell?

  “You’re welcome, little elf. Would you like another? We have plenty.”

  I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but dammit,
I did want another one. “Yes, please.”

  “Good girl.” The huge smile on his face gave away the fact that he heard my inner argument. Why did that not feel weird anymore? Weirder still was the warmth spreading through my body at his childlike endearment.

  I sipped my cocoa and groaned, wishing it were coffee. This was way too many feelings to deal with without caffeine. Time to drown the feelings in frosting. I dug in to my second cinnamon roll.

  “Want to guess what you and Daddy will be doing today, little one?”

  “Christmas,” I spoke around a bite of pastry.

  He laughed. “Yes, sassy pants, but what to do with Christmas?”

  “How should I know? You’re the expert, not me.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. It was a defense mechanism I employed when I felt vulnerable. And Santa had me feeling hella vulnerable. When he quirked a brow at my response, I sank in my seat. I recognized that look from last night. Right before I got spanked.

  “Want to try that one again? Or would you like a little attitude adjustment to begin the day?”

  I shook my head. I did not want another spanking like that anytime soon. No way, no how. I was barely able to swallow the last piece of my cinnamon bun past the lump that had formed in my throat. “Sorry.”

  “Thank you.” He winked at me, and I couldn’t help but wiggle in my seat. I needed distance from him, and I needed it now.

  I jumped out of my chair. “I really need a shower, umm…” Did I need to ask permission to shower? Was that a thing? This being six stuff was hard, but I definitely didn’t feel all of my thirty-one years, either. I decided to err on the side of caution. “Is there time in the plan for that?”

  “If you feel like you need a shower, go right ahead and have a shower. If you’re doing it to avoid me, however…”

  He let the threat linger, and I dropped my shoulders and sat back down.

  “This is not supposed to be torture, little one. I’m excited about our day together, and I wanted to share that with you, that’s all.”