Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  “I DON’T THINK WE NEED much more of a discussion and this is between Santa and his impish little girl, so let’s go into the other room where it’s more private,” he said in an exasperated but loving tone, observing all the large kitchen windows. “Your bare bottom has been deserving a good hard spankin’ all week, missy.”

  They entered the living room together, and as Pete sat on the couch, Sammie sauntered over to the picture window and closed the blinds. “My sister and her husband live down the street and usually come through the front door. But I probably don’t need to tell you that. You’re all knowing, right, big guy?” she asked, her eyes narrowing into slits.

  “Do you think this is amusing, young lady?” His head slowly shook in disbelief that she still had the nerve to sass him. “Do I amuse you?”

  Sammie inched closer with fingers interlocked behind the small of her back.

  “Come here. Now.” He curled a finger and pointed for her to stand before him.

  Reluctantly but slowly, she obeyed.

  “Take off your skirt,” he growled.

  When she dropped the short denim fabric and kicked it aside, he grabbed her by the waist and lowered his small wife over his hard thighs. Though he was instantly aroused by her submissive position, he did his best to control himself.

  “Little girls are supposed to sit on Santa’s lap, not get bent over it,” she sassed, swerving her head upward.

  Pete shifted his wife forward a bit, placing her beautiful upturned bottom into a good spanking position and watched her panties rise, exposing the lower half of her luscious bare cheeks. It was difficult for him to focus on the task at hand, but he took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. “You deserve this spankin’, and you know it.”

  After removing his thick white glove, he shimmied down her cotton panties and lowered his large hand to each bare buttock with deliberate, swift strokes. As he made contact again and again, reddening her tender pale skin, Sammie yelped, and her supple ass trembled after each swift smack.

  “Oh, my God, that hurts! What happened to that soft glove you had on?” she shrieked, her bare feet kicking wildly, her hands clutching at the plush carpeting beneath her.

  But her husband paid no attention to her pleas and continued swatting his hard, calloused palm upward over each side of her backside, watching the flesh flutter and redden. Finally, after about twenty brisk spanks, he rested his hand on her hot, flaming ass.

  “You have an extremely sassy mouth, little one. Are we in agreement on that?”

  “Yes. I’m so sorry,” she sputtered, tears dripping from her eyes.

  “We’ve been over this again and again. What will it take to get through to you?” he asked, applying two stinging swats to the sensitive area just beneath each cheek.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” she yelled in between sobs. Her full bottom was high, and the blood had rushed to her head as he continued to spank her hard and fast.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to be my good girl now?” he asked, along with two more dramatic smacks across both red globes.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Does your backside feel hot and sore, young lady?”

  “Yes, sir,” she mumbled quietly.

  “I know it’s fun for you to act cheeky, but is it really worth having a hind end that feels like it’s on fire?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well, your punishments are going to get longer and harder each time you decide to test my patience. Is that clear?” he asked through a wolfish grin, remembering that a spanking bench was assembled and waiting in the spare room.

  “Yes, sir,” she managed while sniffling.

  He helped her off his lap and pointed across the room. “Go stand against the wall over there next to the tree.”

  She wiped the tears running down her cheeks as she assumed the juvenile position, jutting her glowing bare ass out into the room. Softly, she hiccupped and then took a deep breath, obviously trying to regain her composure. Fifteen minutes later, Pete checked his watch.

  “Come over for a hug, my sweet.”

  True to form, Sammie turned and ran into his arms, her eyes still swimming in tears. “I know you’ve been working long hours on the ranch to allow our employees some time off for the holidays, and I’m sorry for being such a brat.”

  Pete’s smile was warm and sincere. “Apology accepted, sweetie. Now, were those cookies that came out of the oven earlier baked for Santa?” he asked in a soft voice, getting her comfortable in his lap.

  As she nodded, he watched the corners of her lips twitch upward and squeezed her body tight. “I’m glad it’s just going to be me and you tonight. I have a special dinner planned for us with all your favorites. And tomorrow, I have a big surprise for you,” he said with an exaggerated deep chuckle.

  SHE DRAPED HER HANDS around his neck and sighed as she felt a hard bulge through his pants. “Ooh, looks like you have quite a large package for me right now. Shall I unwrap it?” she teased.

  “I want to fuck you hard, my dear,” he rasped, his cock leaning heavily against the stiff blue jean fabric. “Right here and right now.”

  As she removed her arms from his neck, he pulled off his fake beard and quickly repositioned Sammie over the arm of the chair. “I’m going to need those red, round cheeks of yours high up in the air.”

  “You want me like this, cowboy?”

  “Uh-huh. But the sight of your beautiful bottom posed like that is almost too much for me to bear.” Pete’s voice was gravelly and his breathing ragged as she felt his warm breath on her pussy. “Keep your head down and push your ass up a bit higher, little lady,” he groaned as her wanton scent continued to permeate the air.

  “Do you remember the last time you said that to me?”

  His chuckle was deep and hearty. “Like it was yesterday.”

  “Mmm. You rode me hard that night, cowboy.”

  “God, I love to smell how fucking much you want me,” he said, bending over to circle her clit with his tongue, licking a trail from her vagina to her velvety tight hole. After he rounded the silky rim slowly and carefully, he spoke in a slow, gravelly tone. “Now, you know the rules. Don’t you dare move until I’m done, sweet girl.”

  She sucked in a sharp gasp as her muscles fluttered. “Are you crazy? You know I can’t stay still. I’m already shivering.”

  “Damn it, Sammie, you know that I’m dying to lick this gorgeous ass,” he growled, kissing each smooth cheek before tenderly nibbling underneath in the sensitive crease.

  A low moan of pleasure escaped from her throat as he rubbed his thick, bulbous crown over her soaked pussy before sliding inside, filling her completely.

  “Please turn that beautiful face of yours. I want to see your blue eyes sparkle when you rocket into the next world,” he whispered, pulling the head of his cock out to the rim before sliding back in again.

  Compliantly, she peered over her shoulder at him. “My God, Pete. Deeper...I need to feel you deep inside me.”

  Moving his fingers, he rubbed her slick clit in a circle while he drove his stiff cock in and out of her drenched sex with long, cadenced strides. Gasping, she rocked her hips back and forth to meet each strong thrust as he finally pressed his thumb down on her aching button. “Please don’t stop! I’m going to come now,” she groaned.

  “And I’m comin’ with you!” With his hands holding firmly onto her hips, he drove in one final time as her clitoris pulsed hard measured beats right before his surging shaft exploded with a rhythmic rush into her hot depths.

  When their chests stopped heaving, he carefully withdrew his softened penis, and she slithered off the chair onto the carpet. Gently enveloped by his warm body, she loved the comforting sensation and drew in a deep cleansing breath before releasing an audible, satisfied sigh. After looking over her shoulder to gaze into his smiling emerald green eyes, she relaxed and curled underneath his large muscular arm. “Pete?”

  “Mmm?”

 
I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  She felt his ribcage rumble as he laced his fingers in between hers. “We sure do know how to kick off the holidays!”

  “IT’S CHRISTMAS EVE, Daddy. Can you make up a holiday story tonight instead of reading one?” Jessie nagged, pulling on the hem of his soft denim shirt as he stood beside the bed.

  Trent sighed and arched a brow at her before putting the glossy, hard-backed Christmas book down on the end table. “Okay, but let me think about this for a minute,” he said, sitting on the edge of the mattress while rolling up his sleeves. “I work on a ranch, you know, not in a children’s library.”

  She giggled and leaned forward onto her elbows. “I just love when your eyebrow shoots up like that. It makes you look like my strict daddy.”

  “Let’s get you snug under the covers, and I’ll try to create something festive in my mind. Would you like it to be a traditional cowboy tale?” he asked, helping Jessie get comfortable, fluffing a pillow behind her.

  “Yes, but no ghosts of Christmas past, please,” she said, guiding him onto the bed next to her. “I still have nightmares about you-know-who.”

  “Of course, I understand, sweetie. It hasn’t been that long since they locked Ben Levy’s butt behind bars.”

  “Daaddy!” she yelped, covering her ears, her stomach clenching at the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s name. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about him anymore.”

  He lovingly swept her strawberry blonde bangs to the side. “You know, baby doll, it’s never too late to see a therapist. I’ve done some research on women who’ve been kidnapped, and the professionals say it’s not something that ever leaves your subconscious.”

  “Do you think discussing that creep right before I go to bed is a good idea?” she asked, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

  “Okay, okay. You’re right. On with the story. Ahem. Let’s see. Once upon a time, there was a naughty little girl named Jessie who needed a spankin’ almost every day.”

  Her forehead creased as she folded her arms. “I’ve already heard this one, and there’s not one festive element in it!”

  “Now, now, just because I’ve started other bedtime stories this way, doesn’t mean this isn’t going to be an original.”

  She loved how his eyes sparkled when he scolded her and her pussy spasmed under the covers at his stern tone. “All right, let me guess. Jessie’s last name was Reynolds, and she was married to the owner of a dude ranch,” she teased through a wide yawn, trying to egg him on.

  “Not at all. This beautiful woman I’m going to tell you a story about was Santa’s daughter.”

  She peered up at him with a suspicious gaze. “Mr. and Mrs. Claus had a daughter? How would you know this?”

  “Elf on the Shelf told me, and he knows everything.”

  “Of course, he does! He and that nosey friend of his, Mensch on the Bench are such gossips!”

  His hazel eyes narrowed. “You’re interrupting my creative thought process with your snide comments. Would you like to go to sleep or hear the story?”

  “The story. Please continue,” she said, squirming under the sheets from his scolding.

  “Well, word on the street has it that she grew up to be a successful attorney in Manhattan. But she missed having a daddy.”

  “Why didn’t she stay at the North Pole? I’d always imagined that Santa and Mrs. Claus would’ve been model parents.”

  “Of course, they were. And she was raised to be an intelligent, independent lady.”

  “Ahh. So, how did this work out for her? Wait...let me create a mental picture and help you out here. One day, she and her twin sister went on vacation to Arizona, and they both fell in love with the owners of a dude ranch.”

  “Am I telling this story, or are you?” Trent admonished through a jagged grin before clearing his throat in an obvious attempt to look serious. “Jessica Nicole Reynolds, if you don’t button up that sassy mouth of yours, Daddy can’t concentrate on making up the tale.”

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  “If my memory serves correctly, Jessie did marry the rancher and lived the life of a respected defense attorney by day, but when she would come home at night, her personality would switch to one of a little girl, and she’d do naughty things to get her daddy’s attention.”

  “Was Jessie pregnant? Because if she was, her daddy probably wouldn’t want to take her across his knee,” she baited through an exaggerated sigh.

  “That’s true. But he’d done some research on other ways to discipline his badly-behaved wife.”

  Her eyes widened. “He sounds like a clever man. What kind of things was he able to do?”

  He winked and gently lifted her chin with one finger to bring her face closer. “He would teach the inside of her bottom a lesson instead of the outside.”

  “Just like my daddy used to punish me?” she asked, a flush of heat creeping up her neck.

  “Exactly, sugar. Because he always wants to make sure you feel safe and loved.”

  She lifted her shoulders and dramatically crossed her arms. “Is that the end of the story? It’s definitely lacking in a few specific details.”

  REACHING OVER TO HIS nightstand, he pulled open the drawer and removed a tube of lubricant. While unscrewing the top, he raised an eyebrow and watched the dark pupils in Jessie’s cornflower blue eyes dilate. “If my little one needs more information, I’m happy to demonstrate some specific details in how her daddy disciplined his naughty daughter’s bottom.”

  She gulped. “Nope. No need for a reminder. I’m good.”

  “I think you’ve been needing some loving discipline. Am I right?”

  Jessie’s brow furrowed. “What happened to your funny side, Daddy?”

  “My sense of humor is just fine, thank you. But I have the feeling you need some attention, right now. So, come out from under those sheets and get on your hands and knees, please.” His tone was low and composed as he slathered his finger with lube.

  Her expression was incredulous. “Right now?”

  “Do you want to find out what happens if I have to ask twice, Jessica Nicole?” he warned in a stern tone.

  After crawling out of the sheets, she crouched on all fours and looked over her shoulder.

  “Cheek to the mattress,” he ordered softly, watching as she submissively rested the side of her face against the cool fitted sheet and lifted her ass.

  He raised her cotton nightgown and shimmied down her lace thong. “Is my naughty one’s memory surfacing yet?” he casually inquired, running his fingertip over her tight rosette.

  “I remember, I remember!” Jessie groaned, bowing her back as she twisted her head in his direction. “Who could forget something embarrassing like this?”

  “Maybe the same little lady who has forgotten how to reply respectfully to her daddy. What happened to yes, Daddy, and no, Daddy?”

  She shut her eyes tight as he slowly inserted his finger into her tight quivering rosebud. “I haven’t forgotten,” she said quietly.

  “Maybe the love of my life should be careful what she wishes for.”

  “I’m soooo sorry for being sassy, Daddy!” she shrieked as he pulled his thick digit out of her narrow dark channel, only to push it back in further.

  “Are you feeling remorse for being so disrespectful tonight, or are you sorry you’re being punished?” Though his voice was stern, it was hard for him to hide the crooked smile forming on his lips as he watched her cheeks redden from the humiliation of her position. “We both know there’s a difference, young lady.”

  “Remorse,” she said, her tone just a bit more than a lilting murmur. “Is my punishment over? Can I come up for a hug, now?”

  His grin was wide and wolfish as he playfully landed a swat on her bottom. “Pick up your panties while I go wash my hands.”

  “Jesus, I can’t believe he still knows exactly what will embarrass the shit out of me,” she whimpered under her breath, adjusting the cotton gusset of her thong.


  He returned from the bathroom and pulled the covers up to her chin. “A good daddy always knows when his baby girl’s rear end needs undivided attention.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I love my daddy who has the best hearing in the world?”

  He softly kissed her forehead and smiled. “I love you more, sweet pea. Now try and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SQUINTING DOWN TOWARD the end of the bed, Sammie’s bleary eyes spotted her handsome husband dressed in black jeans and a white fitted T-shirt that showed off the defined abs of his upper body.

  “Merry Christmas, darlin’,” Pete sang cheerfully. “Are you planning to join me for breakfast, today?”

  “I certainly have no plans to stay in bed on Christmas morning,” she teased, with a follow-up yawn and stretch. Looking over at the clock on the nightstand, Sammie noticed that it was an alarming 5:30. “Don’t you think it’s a bit early to eat, cowboy?”

  “Come on, it’s our first real Christmas together, and I wanted to savor every moment that we’re alone. Meet me downstairs for a piping mug of hot chocolate in fifteen minutes.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m going to need at least a gallon of coffee to pump my energy level to the hilt today!” But unfortunately, Pete responded with a lopsided smile and a shake of his head as he pivoted to saunter out of the bedroom. After contemplating her list of things to do for a moment, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and dragged herself down the hall to the bathroom. Since she was on the clock to be downstairs in fifteen minutes, she did a minimal amount of primping and slipped into a silk robe. When Sammie reached the bottom of the stairs, there her husband stood with a mug of hot chocolate and a hefty swirl of whipped cream on top, just as he’d promised.