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The Writer's Loft

A collection of my erotic fiction. I'm always interested in new topics if you have something you'd like to read about.
6 years ago. December 24, 2017 at 6:23 PM

Her studio was small and the Christmas tree took up most of living room corner by the television set. She had called all her family and wished them a Merry Christmas before settling down with a mug of hot cocoa to watch “A Christmas Carol” before drifting off to sleep, hoping that Santa would soon arrive.

For twenty-some years she lived in the world of adults, no longer believing in the magic of Christmas. But as she turned off the television, she looked at the tree one final time and said, “Santa, if you’re out there. I believe.”

She closed her eyes and sleep quickly overtook her. The hours passed she slept soundly in her bed. As the first hint of morning light began to fill the small apartment she opened her eyes and was startled by the sight before.

“Santa?” She asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

The lively old elf stood and turned to face her. She sat upright and instinctively pulled the sheets and blanket up to her neck covering herself. What was this strange man doing in her apartment and how did he let himself in?

“Young lady,” he began. “For many years you’ve denied my existence. But your wish last night made it clear that in your heart, a small part of you still believes in the magic of Christmas.”

“Tell me now,” he continued. “How many years has it been since you stopped believing?”

Her mind began to race as she thought back to her childhood and when she learned at school that Santa was only make believe. She began to recall the details and remembered that fateful day. She was in the second grade and Susan Gentry pushed her off the merry-go-round and everyone laughed at her when Susan taunted her saying she was a baby because she believed in Santa Clause.

“Twenty-four years, Sir.” She said as she lowered her eyes.

“I remember the day too,” he said. “You were a naughty little girl that day and I think it’s time you received your penance for hurting Santa’s feelings. Don’t you you agree?”

Her eyes fluttered with fear as she looked the man in the face who stood beside her bed, offering his outstretched white gloved hand.

Pensively, she took his hand and crawled out of bed and stood before him, her eyes cast to the floor. She marveled at the fact that she could see her reflection in the shine of his black leather boots and found herself lost in the rhythmic pentameter of his words.

“I think you deserve one spanking for each year you didn’t believe. Does that seem fair to you?”

She nodded her head before even realizing what she had done as words escaped her tongue. He sat on the bed and patted his knee. She instinctively stood beside him. He took her small frame in his arms and laid her across his lap. Then he pulled her nightshirt up over her hips and her panties down to her knees.

She flushed with embarrassment as he caressed her legs and buttocks with his soft gloved hand.

“Are you ready to begin?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied.

“I want to hear you count each one out loud.”

His hand fell heavy on her left buttock and she yelped and counted, “One.”
The second fell heavy on her right cheek and she counted, “Two!” By seven, her eyes welled with tears. By seventeen her nose began to dribble. By twenty-two her cheeks were stained with tears and by twenty-four, her bum glowed bright pink.

As the elf finished administering his punishment he caressed her rosy buttocks before pulling her panties back up. Then he helped her to her feet and stood in front of her.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, young lady. Santa cares for you very much.”

She three her arms around the elf and hugged him very tight.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Santa. I never will again. Can I fix you a mug of hot cocoa before you go?”

“That would be lovely, my dear,” he said as she pulled away and made her way to the kitchen. “I hope next year when I return, you will have been a very good girl.”

“Oh, yes, Sir. I most certainly will,” she said with her back to him as she poured the steaming milk into a mug. When she turned back around she gasped when she saw that she was alone in the room and he had vanished. She walked over to her bed and set the mug of steaming cocoa on the nightstand. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to the pillow. There on her pillow was sprig of holly tied to a candy cane and a note that said,

“I hope you’ll be very good girl in the coming year. I’ll be making my list and checking it twice. Good girls get many presents on Christmas morning.

Merry Christmas!

Love, Santa.”


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