Eight chapters of holiday stories to enjoy year-round! Ariel’s Christmas Wish, Penalties, Sweet Green Lollipops, Sawyer’s Woman, The Thanksgiving Shyster, and I’ll Be Home for Christmas. From popular spanking romance author Brandy Golden, the sassy women and alpha males will inspire your wildest fantasies.
Mature subject matter for adults only. BDSM category: spanking only
“Is there really a Santa Claus?” asked 7-year-old Natalie, her first grade eyes doubtful as her mother encouraged her to write Santa a letter. She was just at the age when her schoolmates were casting the first doubts in the realities of childhood beliefs.
“Of course there is honey,” replied her mother brightly.
“I don’t know,” responded Natalie. “Gwen said he wasn’t real.” Gwen was her best friend and Natalie considered her an authority on most subjects.
“Well, Gwen would be wrong this time!” Ariel glanced at 5-year-old Kayla. The hope shining in her eyes stabbed at her heart, but she encouraged the girls to write down something they would like to have for Christmas this year anyway. Not that it would be fulfilled. They were dependent on the kindness of strangers. Oh well, she thought. She would write the girls a note from Santa telling them he was all out of those toys this year, but hoped they liked what he had brought. (It would be whatever charity decided to give them).
How I wish I could write a letter to Santa, she mused. What would I ask for? She couldn’t think of anything she really needed, except Steve. Her heart lurched and the weepy feeling that always accompanied thoughts of her husband threatened to engulf her once again. She quickly swept it aside and concentrated on the girls.
Ariel took the letters for Santa, sealed them up tight in the envelopes, addressed them, stamped them and let the girls run them out to the mailbox. The postman would be by shortly, and then they would be off to the North Pole. Or so the age-old story went.
She sighed and walked to the window to watch their childish antics. They made life worthwhile and she wished Steve could be here to see how beautiful they were becoming.
“Too bad there’s not really a Santa Claus,” she murmured to the frosty windowpane. I’d wish for a spanking this Christmas, she decided impulsively. She shook her head and grinned to herself as the mental image of herself over a jolly old Santa’s lap jumped into her head. “No point in wishing for the impossible, Ariel, it just makes the reality harder to bear,” she said out loud, the words echoing in the room.
She turned and surveyed the small apartment, so sparsely furnished. They didn’t have much and couldn’t afford anything. There was the scrubby little tree a kind neighbor had given them, decorated with homemade dough ornaments she had helped the girls make. She had rescued a strand of lights from the dumpster out back when taking out the garbage, and by some small miracle, they actually worked.
They had spent an evening at the school, stringing popcorn and cranberries for a class project and it had cost them nothing. The cranberries looked cheerful amid the white popcorn and the sparse greenery of the tree... a nice bright red that reminded her of other things in days gone by.
Shaking off the gloomy feeling, she welcomed the girls back in the house, their childish cheeks rosy from the cold and smiled a cheerful, albeit it a false smile as she ushered them into the tiny kitchenette for hot chocolate.
Tonight was Christmas Eve and there was supposed to be someone dressed as Santa from the local church dropping off food and gifts for the children sometime tonight. She had made arrangements to be home all evening, not that she would be going anywhere anyway.
She set the kids to coloring as she prepared their scant supper and tried not to feel so discouraged when she remembered last Christmas Eve. When Steve had still been with them. Her husband had been so vibrant and full of life. He had played Santa. much to the girls’ delight, his “ho ho ho” filling their home with laughter. Later on that evening, he had given her a very special Christmas spanking, the best present ever. She smiled whimsically at the wonderful memory.
Shortly after that, their world had collapsed when the doctor had given them the news. It had been so hard to believe. She pushed away the dark thoughts that crowded in on her and joked and laughed with the girls as she ate macaroni and cheese and hotdogs with them, their thin faces alight with the hope of Santa coming during the night. She helped them to prepare a treat for the jolly old elf and oats for the reindeer. Yes, Santa loved popcorn, she assured them.
After getting them snuggled into bed with the warning to go right to sleep or Santa wouldn’t come, she closed the bedroom door and returned to the kitchen to clean up. It didn’t take long. She could see the snow softly falling through the kitchen windowpane and her hands stilled as she looked up into his face, waiting for his kiss and smile beneath the mistletoe. Her heart yearned and hot tears flooded her eyes. She blinked them away and continued with the dishes.
