At Christmas time, Santa brings presents to everyone on the nice list. And he spanks everyone on his naughty list. At least that's how the much-abused assistant to Ms. Briony Sanders thinks it should be when he plays Santa at the company party.
From THE NAUGHTY LIST: “Over my knee,” was all I said in response. I realized I was still wearing my Santa gloves and slowly stripped them off. She obeyed. Yes, obeyed. She stretched out across my lap. I shoved her dress up to her waist, but when I started to take her panties down, she let out a screech of outrage and clamped her hands over her bottom like a little girl. “Were you under the impression that this spanking wasn’t going to be on your bare bottom?” I asked. “You’ve taught me that every task, no matter how small, must be done correctly. That’s how I plan to do this spanking.” I caught her wrists in one hand and slid them up behind her back, then I took a moment to admire her Frou Frou panties by John Paul Gautier. How did I, your basic guy, know the designer? Because I had the honor of doing my boss’s personal shopping. The price of this little bit of lace? Five hundred and thirty-four bucks. Before tax. She should have been spanked just for owning them. Didn’t she know that there were people in the world who couldn’t afford food? I ran my fingers over the lace. It wasn’t smooth, more ruffly. I let my fingers make another trip across, and Ms. Sanders gave an annoyed harrumph. “Can we get on with it?” she asked, all I’m-way-too-important-to-waste-my-time-with-this. “You aren’t the boss when you’re over my knee,” I informed her. I planted my palm on her bottom, my fingers spread wide. “I’ll start when I want. I’ll stop when I’ve decided you’ve had enough.” To prove it, I made her lie there with her hands held behind her back and my hand on her ass for a solid two minutes. Her whole body was tense. I don’t think she was nervous. I think she was enraged. But she managed to hold her tongue, and that was a little Christmas miracle, I can tell you. When I was good and ready, I raised my hand high, and brought it down with a crack. Ms. Sanders gave a little squeal. Did I love hearing that? Oh, yeah. I spanked her all over those fancy panties of hers until she was wriggling to try and get away, then I planted my hand on her bottom again. “Are you still eager for me to get with it?” I taunted. “You little bastard!” she bit out. That earned her a few more spanks on her black-lace covered bottom. Then I decided it was time for those panties to come down. She gave a surprised little squeak when I ran one finger under the waistband. She probably thought I’d decided not to make her take the spanking bare. Like I was going to give her any kind of break. I toyed with the waistband a bit, plucking at it lightly, making her wait, then I jerked them all the way down to her knees. “How does it feel having to go over my knee like a bad little girl, Ms. Sanders?” I asked. “With your bottom all pink from a spanking.” I ran my hand across her round ass. The skin was warm, but not nearly as warm as it was going to get. “Answer me, Briony Ann,” I demanded. Of course I knew her middle name. I do a ton of paperwork for her. I gave her a sharp spank. “How does it feel to have your bottom bared because you’ve behaved so badly?” This short story is 3,500 words long. It is intended for readers over 18.