Christmas isn’t a holiday I think a ton about. Well, it’s significant in a lot of ways to me. It means a lot from a religious standpoint, but over the years it’s stopped being as big a deal in the gift giving standpoint. Really, I take the entire month (or as much as I can) of December off and am busy all month with other things so Christmas doesn’t hold the excitement it used to.
I’ve been a little… How about I tell you a little story to help you understand.
“Cara, I’m going to need you to come to my office as soon as you put the dishes away.”
I froze. I mean, mid plate-going-into-the-dishwasher froze. He only used that voice when I was about to get a spanking. Typically I loved spankings, but I knew my ass wouldn’t feel so… loved when he was done.
“Don’t dally, girlie, or I’ll have to break out your favorite paddle.” He whispered in my ear and then patted my bottom.
That kicked me into gear. I went from frozen to all the dishes loaded in under a minute.
Once I was done, fear gripped me. I ran through the day, trying to think of what I could’ve done to warrant what I knew was coming. The house had been spotless, I didn’t throw a fit when both our families came in and promptly destroyed it, I didn’t slap the shit out of his brother for being a rude jackass, or lose my mind when his mother insulted pretty much everything I did. Presents were ready and appropriate, and I managed to squeeze in the Christmas dress I’d been trying to fit in all year. I was even prepared to suffer through… I mean, do it all again tomorrow.
“I was pretty damn good today.”
I tried to say it with as much conviction as I could muster, I even marched halfway down the hall, but lost all steam when I made it close to the doorway. He had a way to reducing me to a little girl when I think I’m in trouble, and no amount of bluster could stop my knees from knocking when I hit the door.
He’s waiting for me behind his big oak desk, which he’d cleared off and placed all the implements of my ass’s destruction on.
I toed off my heels and stepped over the threshold and can’t stop from wringing my hands. “I’ve been really good, Daddy.”
My voice had an awful whine to it, but I couldn’t help it. I straightened my spine and moved closer to his desk.
“Did I say you were bad, baby girl?” He lifted a brow and I dropped my eyes. “Come around here.”
I’m there in a blink.
He turned toward me, staring at me intently. The hand wringing had picked up again, but he stopped it be taking hold of my wrists and pulling me between his knees.
“Cara, eyes.” I lifted my gaze to his and found him smiling at me. “You’ve been a very good girl this Christmas season.”
The way his eyes narrowed when my mouth opened was enough warning. I closed my lips and let him continue.
“But I’ve noticed some behaviors I don’t care for, baby girl.”
He released me hands and turned me to face the desk. I bent forward without prompting. I’d tried to hold my tongue because I knew talking would only make things worse, but the moment he lifted my dress and lowered my panties.
“Can you tell me what I did, Daddy? I… I’m really sorry whatever it was…”
He chuckled, his fingers kneading my bottom. “The holiday season has made you very impatient and obsessive. You promised to drive your nieces home if they spilled anything else on the floor, and I’m pretty sure you were going to kick my mother out when she criticized your mashed potatoes.”
“She’s a mean spirited woman and I can’t believe she gave birth to you.” I huffed. “Those potatoes were perfect, the hateful–”
The slap to my butt shut me up.
“My point is, I don’t like the way you’ve acted. You’ve been short with me, impatient with both of our families, and mean as a snake. I know I’ve put a lot on you by inviting everyone here last minute.”
“Aw, Daddy…” I went to rise, but he stayed me with a hand on my back.
“It’s my job to help you when you get wound up. I’m going to give a little Christmas help.”
I glanced over the desk at the ways he planned to help me. Fear and desire unfurled in my belly, and I shifted as it shot right between my thighs.
He pressed a hand to my back and I lowered until my chest pressed into the desk. Just the act of submitting to him melted me. The tiny moan that slipped out gave me away.
“That’s right, baby girl. Let me help you.” The way he touched me just then, fingertips tapping my hip, put my head in that perfect place.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Then no more words were needed. His hand landed in a steady rhythm that slowly drained away the tension that had been building for days and weeks.