The story so far ……
Merrilee has arrived in the North Pole. She is going to be interviewed by Father Christmas as he is in need of a secretary.
She gets into trouble almost immediately – by being late for her meal. Father Christmas is not too pleased with her and tells her being late for meals is a spankable offence, therefore after the meal she is going to be spanked.
She tries to laugh it off. Will he really spank her?
Now read on ……
‘I’ve had a message from your husband Pete. He has told me in no uncertain terms that you need a good spanking to keep you in line.’
‘You had a message from Pete,’ she echoed. ‘How – when?’
‘Thought transference my dear. But, come on let’s eat first. I’ll sort you out later.’
‘Did I die and come to heaven?’ she wondered. Pete, bless him, knew she’d be missing her spankings.
She enjoyed the meal, but she couldn’t wait for it to end. She so wanted, needed a spanking. ‘Oh Pete wish you were here,’ she thought.
‘Right my dear,’ her thoughts were interrupted. ‘You will go to your room now. Then in fifteen minutes your spanking will begin.’
She was sitting on the bed, wondering what was going to happen. Exactly fifteen minutes later, the door opened and in walked … Pete.
‘Pete, oh darling, what are you doing here?’ She moved towards him, raising her arms with the intention of putting them round his neck.
‘No, Merrilee, you have been a naughty and disrespectful girl,’ he took her arms away from his neck. ‘You know, full well, how being late for meals is very bad manners. So, I’ve been invited to give you a spanking.
He sat down on the bed next to her. ‘Okay young lady, it’s time to visit Lapland.’ He pulled her kicking and struggling over his knee.
His large hand landed on her right bottom cheek, then on her left one. Another half dozen stinging slaps and she was wriggling about over his knee. ‘You’re hurting me,’ she squealed.
‘Good,’ he grunted in satisfaction. ‘Spankings are meant to hurt.’
‘Lousy rotten swine,’
‘Hmmm I’m obviously not getting through am I?’ he pulled her knickers down to mid thigh and started spanking her again.
The heat in her bottom was increasing with every slap that landed on it.
Squirming over his knee – she could feel his cock sticking into her side. Meanwhile, his punishing hand was not spanking her so hard. It started to come down slower and slower, until it finally stopped.
Lying there draped over his knee, she was longing for some relief ‘That’s strange,’ she thought as it didn’t come, ‘He knows how I need relief after a spanking.’
‘Ok my dear, that was quite a spanking that Pete just gave you.’ She then realised that it was no longer Pete’s knee she was lying over, but Father Christmas’s. He helped her to her feet. ‘I’m sure you must be tired after your long journey. Go to bed now, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast at 9 o’clock, don’t be late.’
She sat on the bed for a while, wondering if she had dreamed that Pete had been here and spanked her. ‘Ouch,’ she cried out as she moved and felt the heat from her stinging bottom.
Her hand moved towards her pulsing pussy.
‘Oh no you don’t my dear,’ Father Christmas was stood in front of her. ‘That was meant to be a punishment spanking. You’re not supposed to enjoy it.’
‘But Pete never gives me punishment spankings,’ she wailed.
‘Well, he told me you needed to learn some manners my dear and pleasuring yourself is not teaching you anything is it?’
‘Tut tut, such language,’ One minute she was sat on the bed, her skirt up and her middle finger stroking her clit. Next thing she knew, she was lying over Father Christmas’s knee. This time it was definitely Father Christmas and not Pete who was spanking her.
Her gave her a hard spanking that stung like hell, bringing tears to her eyes.
After covering every square inch of her bottom, he said, ‘Come on, on your feet, and into bed with you, and don’t touch yourself.’ He helped her to her feet. ‘Remember I can see and hear everything.’
Sniffling she got into bed and slept all night lying on her tummy.
Next morning she was ready for breakfast at 8.50.
‘You know, you’re going to have to learn to be precise my dear,’ Father Christmas said. ‘Being early is almost as bad as being late. After breakfast, you will be spanked again.’
Merrilee ate her breakfast in silence. She was excited. Oh! She knew it was going to hurt, but her bottom was beginning to twitch and she could feel her pussy starting to flood with her juices.
As promised, after breakfast Father Christmas sent her to her room again.
He then followed her, sitting down on her bed he beckoned to her, ‘Come on my dear, get over my knee.’
‘Shan’t,’ she said backing away from him.
‘I’ll give you three to get here, or else.’
‘Or else what?’ she asked cheekily.
‘I’ll use my belt, you cheeky little madam.’
‘This is no laughing matter my dear,’
She pouted her bottom lip and stayed with her back against the wall. ‘Oh yes,’ she thought. ‘I want the belt, I love the belt.’
Losing patience with her, Father Christmas slowly pulled his belt out of its loops, wrapping it around his right hand. He then walked slowly towards her. Taking a firm hold of her left arm, he dragged her over to the bed where he sat down, hauling her over his knee.
‘We’ll have these down right away,’ he pulled her knickers down to her ankles.
He didn’t bother with the usual warm up hand spanking, but started right in with the belt. As her bottom had cooled down after last night’s spanking, she did find the belt very painful. But despite her wriggling about over his knee, he kept on bringing the broad leather belt down, time and again on her very sore red, hot bottom.
Her squeals had turned to sobs. When he did finally stop bringing the belt down on her quivering bottom cheeks, she lay there over his knee, limp and bawling her head off.
‘Right my dear, do you understand that I won’t put up with any more nonsense from you.’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly.
‘I can’t hear you Merrilee.’
‘Clean your ears out then,’ she said under her breath.
‘Oh dear, seems you’ve forgotten that I can read minds. Perhaps another twenty strokes of the belt will remind you.’
‘No, please no more,’ she pleaded.
He ignored her cries of pain and taking a firm hold of her, he administered the promised twenty strokes of the belt.
As the final stroke landed, ‘Now my dear,’ he said, ‘are you going to have a change of attitude?’
‘Yes,’ she said loud and clear.
‘Right, get yourself tidied up Merrilee,’ he said helping her to her feet. ‘I’m going to be interviewing you in thirty minutes sharp. Come to my study, it’s the room on the left of the dining room.’
Then he was gone. She didn’t see him leave the room. One minute he was there, next minute …
She so needed relief. Looking round guiltily, she let her own finger enter her still sopping wet pussy, finding her throbbing clit she began to stroke it, getting closer and closer to an orgasm. Any moment she expected Father Christmas to come in and catch her at it. The thought of this excited her and she half hoped he would. Then she came, gasping and moaning.
‘Come on Merrilee,’ she told herself. ‘You don’t want to be late for your interview, do you?’ A mischievous smile turned up the corners of her mouth – and her eyes crinkled just at the thought of it.
To be continued in Part Four ……