Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  “Adelaide.”

  I jumped, startled out of my reverie by Mr. Flores standing in front of me with a mildly amused expression on his face.

  “Oh! Yes, sir, excuse me. How can I assist you?”

  He smiled wider. “I know you agreed to arrange the room, but we have a significant amount of decorations being delivered as well. Could you please put up the decorations and the lights?”

  He placed five $100 bills on the counter.

  “I know this is not your job, but your accommodation would mean very much to us.”

  I nodded dumbly at the money placed in front of me. I’d been bribed to do extra tasks before, but never so much.

  He patted my hand. “We are very grateful you are here, Adelaide. Your assistance means the world to us.”

  “You’re welcome,” I replied woodenly. My brain and my mouth were having difficulty connecting at the moment.

  Mrs. Flores came out of the elevator and waved coyly at her husband. The way his face lit up made my eyes tear slightly. I wanted someone to look at me with that level of adoration.

  “I’ll see you soon, Adelaide. Thank you, again.” Hurrying off to Mrs. Flores, he took her arm like it was the greatest pleasure in the world, and the two of them walked outside, arm in arm.

  Francis had disappeared again. I felt like he was going to do this the entire holiday, and I already resented him for it. I wanted to tell Mrs. Haverty, but I wasn’t a narc.

  The order arrived before the Floreses were back, but it wasn’t just a few packages. The lobby started to fill up with box after box. There were five men unloading what must have been a rather large truck. Eventually, I conned the delivery men into helping me take it all upstairs to the Alpine Suite. Screw the rule about the desk always being manned, and screw Francis too. This was more important. And way more interesting.

  Upon entry to the suite, I directed the men to place all the packages in the middle of the room. Once everything was there, I tipped them each a twenty and began the work of unpacking.

  There was an oversized rocking horse, at least fifty stuffed animals of various types and sizes, a helium tank and a bunch of balloons in red and green; several board games and puzzles; and an entire box of very childish looking clothes, but in adult sizes. They were practically my size. I held the dresses up to myself and smiled. I hadn’t worn a dress since before I was double digits. When my parents had forced me, I’d worn skirts, but otherwise I lived in jeans and t-shirts. Or my work uniform. I moved to hang them in the closet and bumped into a box that looked like it would house a refrigerator. Dropping the dresses, I worked to break into the box wondering what the heck it could be. When I finally got it open, my mouth dropped. A white teddy, larger than me, toppled out of the box on top of me. Ginormous rounded brown eyes, a sweet little nose, a huge smile sewn onto his face. I dragged him into the bed and hugged him. It was like hugging a cloud. And, he smelled like cotton candy.

  This was like a child’s wonderland. I snuggled into him thinking about all of the fantasies I’d had sitting in the window seat about someone taking care of me and letting me play. I’d spent so much time as a kid trying to be more grown up, I’d kind of missed the whole “play” phase.

  Footsteps on the wooden floors jolted me. In a panic, I looked straight up into the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Flores. I couldn’t tell if they were angry or amused. Guiltily, I glanced around the room. I hadn’t exactly arranged anything. It looked more like Christmas morning. Packing materials, clothes, and toys tossed every which way. There was no way I was going to be able to explain this. First, I’d fallen asleep in their bed, and now I had completely trashed their room and was molesting their teddy bear. I didn’t even move or speak. I was frozen in fear. Or shame. I couldn’t even tell my own emotions.

  Crap! I guess now I’ll find out just how “matronly” and “non-violent” she really is.

  Mrs. Flores held out her hand. “Stand up, Adelaide.”

  I took her hand and obeyed.

  She stared at me with crossed arms. “Would you like to explain what is going on?”

  “I...” I stared at my toes.

  Mr. Flores put a finger under my chin and lifted my face until I was staring into his eyes. All I could think was they were almost as big and brown as the teddy bear’s. I let out a nervous giggle.

  “You think this is funny, little girl? Playing with things that you have not asked permission to touch? Leaving your job half-done? The door wide open, so anyone could walk in and harm you?”

  My stomach churned. “I didn’t mean to! I just came to deliver your packages and make up the room. And, everything was so beautiful, and the bear was so large. I tried to move him to the bed, and he fell right on top of me. I was just trying to get him off when you walked in. I was going to clean up, I swear.”

  Mrs. Flores spoke in a low tone. “Go close the door, and come sit down. We need to have a conversation.”

  I started to obey, and then turned to them with a hand on my hip. “This isn’t Christmas decorations and wrapped presents like you told me it would be. If you’d wanted me to create a child’s room you should have said so. I didn’t even know you had any children coming!”

  “We don’t, but that is none of your concern. Your job was to arrange the room. That is clearly undone. Also, there are several packages sitting in the lobby unaccounted for. Francis told us they were delivered about an hour ago, but you were not answering your cell to help him bring them upstairs. Now shut the door, please, and come sit down.”

  I swallowed glancing at the clock. Apparently ogling all their toys and cuddling their bear had taken more time than I’d realized. I walked slowly toward the door. Part of me wanted to race through it and hide under my bed like I had as a child. But, I didn’t. Robotically, I shut and locked it and walked back to the couple. They were sitting on the couch and had pulled one of the dining chairs directly in front of them. Mrs. Flores patted the cushioned seat. “Sit, please.”

  I sat down. My face hurt from blushing so hard. I gripped the sides of the chair until my fingers turned white and bounced my legs. They were probably going to tell Mrs. Haverty, and I’d be fired, with nowhere to go. At Christmas, no less. Why had I been such an idiot?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MRS. FLORES SPOKE FIRST. “Now, before we say anything else, I’d like to state that you looked adorable holding Mr. Snow, and had you not been being naughty, I’d have been quite tempted to scoop you up and cuddle you.”

  Mr. Flores nodded in agreement. “Indubitably. I was reticent to disturb you, but you really were being, as my wife put it, quite naughty.”

  I looked back and forth between the two of them, my mouth gaping in shock. They thought I was cute? And, what kind of maniac uses words like indubitably? And naughty? They were not doing a good job of making my errant child feelings go away.

  “I’m really sorry that I disturbed your toys. I don’t know what’s come over me today. I assure you that usually I’m much more professional.”

  Mrs. Flores shook her head. “I think that twice in one day probably means that you are under a great deal of stress you need to release. How old are you, dearie?”

  “Nineteen, ma’am.”

  “And, from what I can tell, Keith and Diane have placed managerial duties on your shoulders. That’s a lot for someone so young.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but Mrs. Flores put her finger on my lips.

  “I’m speaking, dear; it’s rude to interrupt.”

  My eyes widened, but I shut my mouth obediently.

  “As I was saying, you’re very young. I am not saying that you cannot handle the responsibilities; I’m sure you’re very capable. But, based on the behaviors we have witnessed today, I’d say that inside of you is a young girl who wants someone to take care of her. You were correct. All of these items would make up a child’s bedroom, but the child in question isn’t a ‘child’ at all. They were for a thirty-year-old woman, name Phoebe. She was supposed to spend Ch
ristmas with us as our little.”

  My mouth dropped open. This could not be happening. The exact type of people I’d been researching for the last year were standing in my hotel. All of a sudden Mrs. Flores’ matronly vibe made more sense.

  “Y-you guys are into age-play and you have a little?” Even as the question left my mouth, I wanted to take it back.

  “Well, yes and no. She was going to be our little, but about a week ago, she dropped off the radar. All we received was a curt email saying she had ‘moved on’ and never wanted to hear from us again. Her number is disconnected. Our emails come back undeliverable.”

  “You mean she just left you? Without even saying goodbye?” I was shocked. If someone offered me that type of relationship, they would have to be pretty awful for me to reject them. And, the Floreses seemed amazing.

  “Yep. Well, we hadn’t actually met in person yet. This was supposed to be the big reveal. We answered an advert in the paper back in September for a little in need of an Auntie and Uncle. We sent her presents, a weekly allowance, but we only ever corresponded via email and text. She said she was nervous about her English and wanted to wait until we were in person to actually speak. Now we see all the red flags, but at the time, we were just so excited to finally have someone to spoil and pamper that when the perfect opportunity seemed to fall in our laps, we threw caution to the wind.”

  Mr. Flores spoke up. “I strongly believe she wasn’t any of the things she purported to be. I’m starting to doubt ‘she’ was even female now with her strong avoidance of anything that would show her face or voice.”

  I listened quietly, completely unsure how to process what I was hearing. I’d been obsessed with age-play since I’d moved here. I’d even role-played online a few times, but the guys who I interacted with always wanted to turn it into their fantasies of having sex with underage girls, and that wasn’t what I was into.

  “If she wasn’t coming then why’d you keep all the stuff? It’s like not our village is known for a huge little population.”

  Mr. Flores frowned. “I’m not sure. Right after we saw the signs, we cancelled all of the purchases.” He glanced at his wife. “Didn’t we?”

  She blushed, and for the first time since they’d arrived, her dominance fell. “I fully intended to. But, I may have forgotten.”

  His eyebrow quirked and his lips pursed together for a moment, but all he said was, “Very well. We can talk about that later.”

  She nodded her head demurely.

  I felt like I was in an episode of The Twilight Zone. This dominant take-charge woman had changed before my eyes. And what were the chances that I would meet an actual scene couple who were into age-play? This was bonkers.

  Mrs. Flores cleared her throat, regaining her dominant presence. “But, that’s not really the topic at hand right now, is it, little girl?”

  I bit my lip. “I didn’t ask to be part of any of this conversation. I was just trying to figure out the best way to carry out your wishes and this was all thrust on me.”

  “Oh really? Everything is strewn about the room and you were in bed cuddling Mr. Snow because you were trying to carry out our wishes for decorating and setting up?”

  I blushed, unsure how to worm my way out.

  “If you’d asked, even if Phoebe was still coming, we’d have been happy to let you give Mr. Snow a snuggle, but you didn’t ask. And, neglected your duties as chalet matron and then lied to cover it up, didn’t you?”

  I was mortified to feel tears filling my eyes. “I...I...I’m so sorry, Mrs. Flores.”

  “Do you know what I’d do with you if you were ours?”

  My eyes widened. “Mmm-mmm. Umm, I mean no, ma’am. I d-don’t know what you’d do. W-with me that is.”

  She stared at me, her icy blue eyes piercing my soul. “How about I show you? Stand up.” She stood from the couch and held her hands out to help me up. I obeyed quickly. I didn’t want to disappoint her anymore than I already had.

  She took a seat on the chair I’d been in and, without a word, pulled me over her lap, face down, bottom up.

  “Whoa! Mrs. Flores! What are you—ow!”

  She brought her hand solidly down on my rump. And, it wasn’t a very soft or ladylike hand either.

  I was so shocked that she was actually spanking me that it took a couple more stinging slaps before I began to struggle.

  “Mrs. Flores! Stop it! This might be what you’re into, but it’s decidedly not what I am into! Let! Me! Go!” I pushed against her and tried to throw myself off of her lap, but it didn’t do any good. She simply pulled me tighter against her torso and continued spanking my bottom.

  The dress pants Mrs. Haverty required for work were very thin and clingy, and not much protection at all. I could feel every swat, but instead of scaring me or making me angry, it made me feel warm all over. Obviously, my bottom most of all, but I felt warm in my belly, too. Not aroused. It wasn’t a sexual feeling, but it was pleasant. It made me feel very cared for. However, as the spanking continued, the warmth in my belly decreased, and the pain in my butt increased.

  Just when I was about to start pleading for mercy, she stopped and rubbed my bottom tenderly.

  “How are you feeling, Adelaide?”

  I tried to stand to answer her, but she pressed firmly on my back.

  “Not yet, little one. Answer my question please.”

  “Oh! I am feeling...” I tried to think of a rational answer here. What should I be feeling? “Annoyed?”

  She smacked my bottom extra hard, and I yelped.

  “That is a lie. How are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know! Angry?”

  Another jolting slap, this time to the crease between my thighs and my bottom.

  “Ow! Okay, okay! I feel good, okay? I feel like I did something bad, and instead of having to beat myself up for it, it’s just wiped away.”

  “Was it a little something bad or a big something bad?”

  My toes curled and something cold settled in my tummy.

  “Big?”

  “And, what level of spanking would you guess that was?”

  I didn’t answer at first and kicked my feet slightly.

  She patted my bottom. “Speak up, Adelaide.”

  In barely a whisper, I muttered begrudgingly, “Little?”

  “That’s correct. And, if you just get a little discipline for a big transgression, then you will just feel guilty about it later. Antonio, honey, will you please hand me my hairbrush from the armoire?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHOOT! I HAD COMPLETELY forgotten that Mr. Flores was still there. Had he been just standing there the whole time, watching me get my butt spanked? Is that how they got off? She spanked bad girls, and he watched?

  Then it registered what she had asked him for, and my struggles to get off of her lap resumed.

  “I don’t need more spanking, Mrs. Flores! I assure you I feel very badly about my behavior!”

  I saw Mr. Flores’ shoe and then a loud crack echoed through the room. Unbelievable pain ran through my body as she brought what I assumed was the hairbrush down on the center of my bottom. The fire it ignited was like nothing I had ever felt before. And, it didn’t pass quickly. Every swat landed soundly on top of the last. I screamed and started kicking and clawing with all my strength.

  Mr. Flores moved to her side and held my hands tightly as Mrs. Flores placed one of her legs over the backs of my knees. I was completely immobilized. She continued paddling my bottom with that brush. It felt like a fire lit each time it landed, and then soaked deeper into my body than I’d ever thought pain could go. After six swats, I’d lost my strength to fight and just laid limply across her legs. Around ten, I began to cry, and at fourteen, I was begging her to stop with everything I could think of. I lost count at twenty. It felt like it went on for hours. I was completely and utterly helpless. Once I just received the spanking and stopped fighting them, the pain didn’t lessen, but it took on another meaning. I was p
aying for my crimes, atoning for my sins; this was a tangible way that I was answering for my unprofessional behavior today. And, once we were done, it would be over. I wouldn’t have to worry that I would be fired or the Floreses would be angry forever. I wouldn’t lay awake in bed beating myself up for my bad behavior. It was over.

  As I thought those words, I realized it really was over. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since she had stopped, but Mrs. Flores was softly rubbing my back while Mr. Flores combed my hair out of my face with his fingers.

  He spoke first. “Do you need a hug?”

  I nodded emphatically.

  He scooped me off of her lap and the two of them sat on the couch with me between them like an Addi-sandwich.

  I felt warm like I was inside of a cocoon. They murmured sweet things to me in low tones. I didn’t catch most of it, but everything sounded loving and forgiving. Once I was completely relaxed and on the verge of sleep, Mrs. Flores stroked my head and asked quietly, “Can we talk about what just happened?”

  I nodded drunkenly. She could have asked for the moon and I’d have agreed to get it for her at this point.

  They both moved back a little bit, not much; their hands were still on me, and I didn’t feel any less sheltered.

  “How did getting spanked make you feel?” Mrs. Flores asked.

  I thought about it carefully, instinctively knowing that if I blurted out some random answer, I could find myself back over her knee, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  “A lot of things. It hurt, a lot, especially when you started using that hairbrush. But, it also made me feel like you cared about me. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to yell at someone or to be mean to them, but it does to spank them and talk to them. When you cuddled me after, it made me feel really warm and safe. It also made me feel like a kid. Like, I wasn’t an adult. I didn’t have any choices. You just did it, and when I tried to get away, you both held me down. I didn’t have any power or control. I just had to let it happen.”