“Get upstairs and make yourself ready for me. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

I nod frantically as goose flesh pebbles over my skin. He stalks towards me; graceful, panther-like. I mean to back away but remain rooted to the spot. He grazes his thumb over my bottom lip, dragging his finger to my chin before gripping it firmly. Leaning into him, I catch a whiff of his woodsy musk as he places a feather soft kiss behind my ear. I stretch my neck over to the side as he takes my earlobe between his teeth and my pussy clenches in anticipation and fear.

“Is nodding a proper response, young lady?”

“No,” I whisper

“No?” He gruffs, eyebrows reaching for the heavens.

“N-n-no sir!” I stammer quickly. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He smiles in such a way that I almost feel as if he’s baring his teeth at me.

“You will be. Now get your little ass upstairs. I have something to take care of before I come deal with you.”

I dash up the stairs and quickly prepare myself for him, disrobing so I’m left just in my red lace panties and black stockings. I plant myself in the corner, ensuring that my breasts are planted firmly against the wall. The abrasiveness of the paint and the cool temperature of the wall cause my nipples to peak and I struggle to keep my nervous convulsions at bay. Seconds feel like hours, minutes like days as I await his arrival. I remain suspended in time until I hear his footsteps enter the room and hear the bed squeak taking the brunt of his muscular frame.

“Come here,” he whispers threateningly and I scurry over to him tripping over my own feet in nervousness. He catches me by my arm before I face plant and uses the momentum of the fall to throw me over his knee. Once there, he drags my body as if I’m a rag doll so that my ass is the highest point over his lap. Adjusting me further, he reaches over to my heavy breasts dangling towards the floor and rolls my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hmm,” he moans, “I think I’ll clamp these later.”

I gasp quietly as he releases it and grabs for the other.

“Maybe if you’re a good girl, I’ll suck on them after your spanking and make them feel better.” Releasing my nipple, he begins to rub his large palm over my pantied bottom, generating heat and causing me to squirm.

“Such a nice, firm, bottom that will soon be all warm and sore.”

The slight whistle of air is all the warning I get before I feel his hand descend on my ass; flattening one round cheek and then the other. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. I hiss in pain as his hard hand reins spank after spank on my ass. Though I squirm, the smacks keep coming; each time driving my engorged clit further into his lap.

“OWW!” I yell out after about the twenty-fifth slap and wiggle away from his hand. He stops abruptly, gently rubbing his hands on my reddened bum. I sigh in relief, relishing in the sensual touch, my body relaxing into his until I feel him toying with the waistband of my panties.

“No. Please no, sir.” I whimper.

“Oh yes, baby.” He responds; slowly inching my panties down.

“Sir…” I try again.

“Hush,” he interrupts. “You know damn well that naughty girls always get spanked on the bare.” He strokes my ass only for the briefest of moments before the spanks start up again. SPANK. SPANK. SPANK.

“If you weren’t so naughty, I wouldn’t have to do this,” he scolds.

SPANK. SPANK. SPANK. SPANK. SPANK. SPANK.

“But when your behavior so blatantly demands a spanking, you know I’m all too happy to give one to you.”

Tears fall now, and I cry out missing the layer of protection my skimpy panties afforded me as I long for a time when they weren’t falling around my knees. He shifts focus to my sit spots and my shrieks reach a crescendo.

“Please, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, I know you are, baby,” he responds, doubling his efforts.

Finally, giving in to the pain, I manage to find the pleasure. What feels like long minutes later, I notice the spanking has stopped. New sensations consume me as he dips two digits into my pussy.

“Naughty girl,” he growls as he begins to finger fuck me roughly. “Dripping wet from your spanking.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head as he increases his speed, until I’m right on the edge of cumming, before pulling out his fingers abruptly.

“Stand up,” he commands and I whimper as my orgasm slips away. Standing me in front of him, he licks his fingers and groans.

“Back to your corner now,” he demands.

I reach for my panties and begin hiking them up.

“Absolutely not,” he barks in his gravelly voice. “You are to keep that naughty ass where I can see it.”

Spinning me around, he delivers his hardest spank yet on my bum and I scurry to my corner horny, bottom ablaze, and wondering just what will happen next.

Time expands again, and his footsteps become background noise until finally, he calls me to him again. Turning, I see two pillows pilled in the center of our bed.

“Please, sir…”

“Please what, kitten?”

“Please just take me, sir. Please don’t spank me anymore.”

Staring at me, his face finally softens.

“I’m not going to spank you, love.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, fighting with myself not to caress my burning bottom. He saunters over to me and grabs my ass possessively before plunging his skilled tongue into my mouth.

“Oh this poor bottom of mine is so hot and sore, isn’t it sweetheart?”

“Hmmmmm, yes sir.” I moan.

He releases me and reaches into his pocket pulling out the mistletoe that previously hung in our living room. Deftly, he steps on the bed and carefully ties the mistletoe to our ceiling fan with some string.

“Over these pillows right now,” he commands, stepping off the bed. “Push that naughty ass up in the air so that I can make it all better.”

I eagerly throw myself over the pillows, arching my ass and pussy up to be soothed by his amazing mouth.

“Look at me baby,” he whispers, and I happily oblige, turning my head and coming face to face with his hard-on. He backs away and slowly pulls his belt through the loops. I lick my lips at the unexpected striptease. My eyes glazing over as I watch him in awe.

Only when he strokes the belt and doubles it over in his hands to I realize his intention.

“No, sir. No more spanking.”

Ignoring my pleading, he begins to measure the distance of his swing.

“Oh this isn’t a spanking,” he croons, softly connecting the belt to my flesh in quick succession.

“These my love, are mistletoe kisses,” he whispers as I finally erupt into orgasm.