Santa Daddy (Fantastical Daddy Doms Book 3)

by Allysa Hart

  Guilt consumed me as I realized I was making a big deal over nothing. I was so damned confused and twisted around inside, I didn’t know which way was up.

  He scooted his chair away from the table and patted his knee. “Come here.”

  “What?” I shrieked, my heart pounding as I mentally retraced my steps. What had I done? What had I said? “Why? I apologized. I didn’t do anything to earn a spanking.”

  “Calm down. I’m not going to spank you. I just want a cuddle.”

  Geez, did I feel stupid. Before I could put my foot down my throat any further, I stood and went to him. As soon as I was close enough, he reached for my hand, pulled me to sit on his lap, and hugged me.

  “I’m sorry you are so frustrated right now. I want you to do something for me, okay?”

  I rested my head on his chest and nodded.

  “Good girl. Close your eyes and take a nice deep breath. Think back to yesterday. Think about how it felt when you relaxed and let yourself just be.” I obeyed and pulled as much air into my lungs as I could before letting it out slowly. It did feel good when I was dressing the bears and when we decorated the tree and had the popcorn fight. It had been a fun day. I smiled as he rubbed one hand up and down my back. “Good girl. Now I want you to think about the spanking and how it felt to give over that kind of complete control.”

  I squeezed my eyes tight. This was a little harder. That spanking had hurt. Still hurt. “Don’t think about the pain, little elf. Focus on the feelings in here, not here.” He tapped my head and then pinched my ass, and I squeaked in surprise.

  “Ow, meanie.” I rubbed the spot and tried to get up, but he held on.

  “Nope, you aren’t going anywhere. We are not finished here quite yet.”

  I sighed and stilled, knowing if he wasn’t ready to let me up, I wasn’t getting up.

  “I want you to try something for me today. Can you do that?”

  “Depends what it is, I guess.” I eyed him skeptically.

  “I want you to call me Daddy, all day. Whenever you address me, I want to hear you say it. It will help you let go.”

  “You’re joking, right? I can’t call you...that.” I swallowed hard. I was thinking it constantly, but saying it was so much harder.

  “You did last night, more than once.”

  “That was after… you know.”

  “After I spanked you for being a naughty little girl? Yes it was, and if you need that kind of incentive again, I can provide it, but I don’t think you want another big spanking, do you, little elf?”

  I shook my head. I absolutely did not want another spanking like that. I could still feel that one.

  “Words, little one.”

  I bit my lips and stayed quiet. I honestly didn’t think I could do it. The idea of it was so foreign, and I was scared. What if all of this was some crazy stunt to get me to believe and then he walked away?

  “Trust your Daddy.”

  “I can’t say it,” I admitted.

  He didn’t say another word, and before I knew it, I was facedown on his lap once again.

  “No, no, no. Please don’t!”

  He skimmed my pants and panties down, and the cool air heightened my nerves. I craned my neck to look back at him.

  “If you can’t let go, then I will help you, simple as that.” He lifted his hand, and I braced myself.

  Just say it, I pleaded with my own stubbornness as frustrated tears pricked the back of my eyes. You want to say it! Say it.

  His hand fell rapidly three times on each cheek, and that’s all it took.

  “Please, Daddy. Please, don’t spank me! I will do what you said. I’ll trust you. I’m sorry. Please don’t spank me anymore.”

  “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He pulled my pants and panties back up and helped me stand. Taking my cheeks in his hands, he kissed my forehead. “I think you will be pleasantly surprised with the amount of freedom you feel today, little elf. Are you ready to have some fun?”

  “Yes, D-daddy.” I choked on the word, but breathed a sigh of relief once it was out. It did feel good. I nodded and wiped the unshed tears from my eyes. He was my Daddy, at least for the rest of the day, and he would take care of me. That much I could trust.

  Each time I called him Daddy, it felt better and better on my lips. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I was free to enjoy life. And when Santa Daddy said there would be fun, he wasn’t kidding. I emerged from dressing for the day to find two tables in my main living area. One was covered with every cookie-decorating tool imaginable, different colors of frosting, sprinkles, and edible glitter. The other held a few baking pans, large balls of dough, rolling pins, and flour. There were cookie cutters of all shapes and sizes depicting different Christmas symbols. I could already smell cookies baking.

  “I got one pan in the oven already, so we don’t waste any time. Are you ready for one of my favorite Christmas traditions?”

  “They’re all your favorite.” I giggled.

  “Yeah, you might be right about that. I’m kind of crazy for Christmas. Job hazard.” He winked. “Oh well, come on, little elf. These cookies aren’t going to decorate themselves.”

  I positioned myself in front of one of the large balls of dough and watched him out of the corner of my eye. I had never baked anything that didn’t come out of a box, and I had no idea what I was doing. He looked up and smiled.

  “Pull off a chunk of dough and flour your rolling pin then just roll it out. Watch.” He demonstrated for me, expertly flattening the dough into a perfect sheet. I copied his movements, excited to find out the process was pretty simple. Upbeat Christmas music played in the background as we cut out and decorated dozens of cookies. Daddy sang most of the songs, and I found myself dancing along and joining in the chorus of some of the familiar tunes. It was so much fun, and it was over before I was ready.

  “That’s the last of them, little elf.” He wiped his hands on the goofy apron he had been sporting all morning. “What do you think?”

  “Are you sure there’s not more dough? I want to do more.”

  “No, little one, there’s no more dough, but you know those little people shapes we decorated?”

  I nodded. They had been some of my favorite to do. Putting frosting faces and clothing on them had been fun.

  “Well they need homes, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled with mirth as he got up and walked behind the counter.

  “Homes?”

  “Since we already have all of the frosting, I thought it would be fun to decorate gingerbread houses.” He pulled out two preassembled little houses and brought them to the table.

  “I did this at school once!” I clapped my hands excitedly, surprised when I actually felt the childlike excitement building inside me. “Don’t we need candy and stuff?”

  He winked again and snapped his fingers. The cookie mess disappeared, in its place a fresh tablecloth and little bowls of different types of candy. Candy canes, gumdrops, chocolate-coated candies, licorice ropes, and sprinkles in every size and shape imaginable.

  “You know? I don’t think other Daddies can turn messes into candy like that,” I teased.

  “That’s only one of the perks of having a Santa Daddy.” He reached over and tickled my stomach. I jumped away, laughing.

  “’Bout time we got to the perks,” I teased as I picked one of the houses and retrieved the green frosting.

  “Ha ha, little brat. In two days, you have gotten more Christmas than some people get all season. I would call that a perk.”

  “I guess it’s been a little fun,” I admitted grudgingly. Not wanting to wait any longer, I started decorating. I knew exactly which little boy and girl cookies were going to live in my house, and I decorated it accordingly. Red-and-green frosting, lots of candies, and some edible glitter for that extra touch. Every time I looked up, I caught Daddy watching me and smiling. I couldn’t help but smile back.

  When the house looked exactly th
e way I wanted it to, I went to get the two cookies who were going to live there. I had decorated one as Santa and one as Mrs. Claus. I found them among the massive piles of cookies currently spread throughout my kitchen and took them to the frosted house. Setting them on either side, I giggled.

  “All done, Daddy,” I announced.

  He came over to my side of the table, wrapped an arm over my shoulder, and kissed me on the head. “It’s perfect, little elf.”

  “It really is.” I sighed, with equal parts contentment and frustration. I wasn’t talking about the gingerbread house, either. I laid my head on Santa and took a deep breath to calm my crazy emotions. Why was I about to cry over a freakin’ gingerbread house? What was he doing to me? Clearing my throat, I turned my attention toward his creation.

  “Let’s see yours.” I rounded the table to look at what he had done. The action was more about distraction than curiosity. His gingerbread house was decorated meticulously with blue and gold and in front of it was a little gingerbread girl with black licorice rope hair, and what looked to be a sad attempt at a dog. I giggled. “Is that me and Dixie?”

  “It sure is.” He smiled proudly.

  “But, where’s you?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I ran out of gingerbread people. I might have eaten a few before we got to the house decorating. They’re my favorite. Now, how about some lunch and a movie?” he asked with a wink, changing the subject.

  “My stomach is full.” I wasn’t lying, either. I’d eaten more candy and cookies in one morning than I had the entire year combined.

  “You need to eat real food, little one, but I don’t want to make you sick. How about a movie and then lunch instead?”

  “Can I pick the movie?”

  “From an approved list.”

  “Fiiine.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry.” I covered my mouth, remembering how much trouble I’d gotten into the night before because of my attitude.

  “Try again.”

  I dropped my hands and clasped them in front of me. “Okay, Daddy.”

  “Much better, silly girl.”

  “What’s up, little elf?” I asked as I stirred a pot of my famous homemade chili. We had ended up skipping lunch after too much cookie nibbling during our Christmas-movie marathon. It had been a lovely day, and Crystal had stayed in her little state of mind, calling me Daddy, and being perfectly playful and mischievous.

  But as the day had worn on, I had noticed that staying in her little state seemed to be more and more of a struggle. Now, she looked positively morose.

  Crystal shrugged, playing with the strings of her candy-cane-striped apron, and refusing to look at me. I leaned over and tapped her on the butt with my wooden spoon. “Little elf,” I growled. “Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

  The little nudge did nothing to ease her sadness. If anything, it seemed to make her more upset.

  Frowning when she still didn’t answer, I decided not to push it. Pulling the corn muffins from the oven, I scooped up two large bowls of chili, topped them with grated cheese and sour cream, and carried them to the table with the plate of muffins.

  We ate in silence, with Crystal playing with her food more than eating it. She took a few small bites, but most of the meal consisted of her pushing a chunk of corn muffin through her bowl and sighing deeply.

  I was at a loss. She wasn’t testing me. This wasn’t bratting. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but the weekend was coming to an end, and I wasn’t going to leave it like this. Scooping the last bite of chili into my mouth, I pushed my bowl away, threw my napkin on the table, and stood.

  Instantly, her eyes widened, and she showed more signs of life than she had in the last hour. I walked toward her and stuck out my hand. She hesitated before taking it, but eventually she put her small hand in my larger one and allowed me to help her up.

  Without a word, I led her to the couch. Sitting before her, keeping hold of her hand, I brought her to stand between my legs. “Start talking, little elf, or I will have to persuade you to do so, and I don’t think you want that, do you?”

  Sheepishly, she shook her head, and I pulled her into my lap. She snuggled into my embrace, burying her face into my chest, but said nothing still.

  “Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

  I heard the whimper before the rumbled vibrations reverberated on my chest.

  “I don’t wanna be little anymore,” she whispered, so softly I had to strain to hear her.

  My heart squeezed, and I felt sick to my stomach. I had followed my instincts and mucked up everything. I might have actually sent us backward, instead of forward, and there was no time for that. I had to force myself to not get upset and to keep my voice calm.

  “Oh? Why is that? I thought we were having fun. I like being your Daddy.”

  She pulled away and looked up at me, keeping one hand pressed flat against my chest. “I like it, too,” she admitted. “And I was having fun. A lot of fun. But the weekend is almost over. I have to go back to work, and you have to go back to the North Pole or wherever it is you live, and I don’t wanna still be little when you leave. It will hurt too much.”

  “Ahh.” I breathed easier, heaving a sigh of relief. I hadn’t messed up. It was separation anxiety. That sucked, of course, but looking at the big picture, it was a very good sign. “Well, I certainly can’t force you to stay little, my little elf. But I’m very proud of you for letting go and having a good time. And we had a very early dinner. I don’t have to go for hours yet.”

  Suddenly, she smiled and shifted. She was no longer curled up in my lap but straddling it, facing me. My cock sprang to life at the suggestiveness of the position, and I stifled a groan. “What are you doing, little one?”

  Her expression was saucy and full of sass as she leaned in closer until we were nearly nose to nose. “I don’t want to be little when you leave because I want to be big.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes at me, and I had to chuckle.

  “Getting tired of the no-coffee rule?” I guessed.

  She flipped her hair to one shoulder, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. “That was cruel and unusual, but coffee is not what I am thinking about right now.”

  “Oh? It isn’t?”

  “Nope.” She shifted on my lap, for the sole purpose of gyrating against my cock, and this time I couldn’t hold back the growl of aroused anticipation.

  “Little elf…”

  “Stop calling me that. I told you, I want to be big now.” With that declaration, she grabbed my face with both hands and brought her lips down hard against mine. They were soft and sweet, and tasted faintly of peppermint with a hint of chocolate. Sweet Sugarplums. I met her lips with my own, grabbing a handful of her silky hair in my fist as I deepened the kiss.

  Crystal was intoxicating, and the weekend of sexual repression had me horny as hell. As she pushed past my lips with her tongue, I dropped her hair and grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her into the air as I stood. I twisted our bodies so that she would land on the couch, and I all but threw her there, covering her body with mine as I lowered myself over her.

  “You have to be in control, don’t you,” she teased, grabbing the waistband of my jeans and working the belt buckle.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to like it.” I grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head, pulling her shirt over them. Her bra was a shiny red satin that created a stunning contrast against her creamy white skin. “I was contemplating taking that off, but it just so happens to be my favorite color.”

  “Oh, really? Well, then you should see my panties. They match.”

  I quickly moved my attention to her tight black leggings. “These look so good on, but something tells me they will look even better off.”

  She lifted her hips off the couch and allowed me to skim the stretchy black fabric over her hips, down her legs, and onto the floor, revealing, as promised, a pair of sexy red-satin panties.

  “You look exquisite i
n red,” I whispered appreciatively, running my hands over the expanse of white skin between the two pieces of fabric.

  “Well, isn’t that lucky,” she smirked.

  God. I was crazy about this woman. From her sexy smirk, to her red panties and deep into her large but wounded heart. But right now, I was thinking with my cock, and he was much more interested in what lay underneath the shiny scraps of fabric than the fabric itself.

  I grabbed the waistband, hooking a finger on each side. “These are sexy as hell, but they have to go.”

  “I was hoping you would say that. And I feel the same way about those jeans of yours.”

  It was all the motivation I needed. My hands left her waist and flew to my belt, working it and the zipper of my jeans quickly. I somehow managed to rid myself of them without standing, and soon, we were clad only in matching red undergarments.

  “We match,” I quipped.

  “No surprise there. Red is your favorite color, after all.”

  She shimmied down and reached for my cock, grabbing it through the thin fabric of my boxer briefs. I licked my lips and closed my eyes, unsurprised to feel the fabric sliding over my ass and down my thighs as she angled for a better grip.

  When her hand found my cock, the skin-to-skin contact made my eyes roll back in my head.

  “This isn’t really fair, you know. You still have your panties on.”

  “I don’t see you doing anything about it,” she challenged.

  “Touché.” I quickly rectified the problem, removing the satin thong and slingshotting it across the room. It landed on top of Dixie, who looked up from her dog bed with bored eyes, shook off the offending object, and went back to sleep.

  In the time it took me to slingshot the panties and look at the dog, Crystal had changed positions and was now knelt in front of me, eye level with my cock. And she was looking at it like a reindeer looks at a carrot stick.

  I swallowed thickly. Before I could do anything else, she cupped my balls with one hand and wrapped the other around my girth, moving forward until her mouth was poised at the tip of my cock.