Nikolaus Spanking: Santa Claus spanks Young Woman’s Butt
Summary:
Valerie has been behaving like a naughty brat all year. She gets away with it at first. Until Santa Claus turns up at the door on December 6th. Shortly afterwards, she is lying bare-bottomed over his knee.
Nicholas spanking: A late visit for a young lady
The scent of cinnamon and burning wood was in the air as I crept through the hallway of my apartment.
It was December 6, St. Nicholas Day. The evening was supposed to be cozy – a movie, a glass of wine. But my thoughts were elsewhere.
I had been up to more than a little mischief all year. Little, rebellious pranks that were a lot of fun, but often got me into trouble.
Then there was the knowledge that I was expecting a visitor today. From someone who wasn’t so forgiving.
A loud knock on the door made me flinch.
I opened it and there he was. Tall, with a serious expression and his distinctive red coat shimmering in a deep dark red. His white beard was immaculate, his eyes penetrating. He looked stern, almost menacing. He carried a rod under his arm. My pulse raced.
“So, young lady,” he began in a low voice as he entered, ”I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Um… maybe?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe?” His eyes traveled over me, and I felt like a schoolgirl standing in front of the principal. I was only wearing tight sweatpants and a thin top, barefoot. My heart beat faster.
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“You’ve been out of line all year. Playing pranks, lying, breaking rules. And now you want to tell me you don’t know why I’m here?” His voice was calm, but there was authority in every syllable.
“I thought it wouldn’t be so bad,” I muttered, taking a step back.
“Not so bad? We’ll see in a minute.”
Pants down, pulled over the knee and Briefs pulled down
Santa sank down on my sofa, tapped his thigh with the flat of his hand and pointed at me. “Come here.”
My breath hitched. “What…?”
“You heard what I said. Or should I use the rod now?” There was no argument in his tone. My knees went weak. I slowly stepped closer, my gaze lowered.
“Drop your pants,” he suddenly ordered.
I stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Now.”
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My fingers trembled as I slid the sweatpants over my hips. The thin fabric slid to the floor and I stood before him in just my briefs. I felt exposed, vulnerable. And yet strangely aroused.
Santa eyed me critically before grabbing me by the waist and pulling me over his lap. I lay on my stomach on his thighs and my face grew hotter. He put his hand on my waist to hold me in place.
“This cheeky little bottom really needs a good pounding,” he murmured. Then he grabbed my briefs and pulled them down very slowly.
I gasped. “No! That’s not necessary-”
“Quiet,” he interrupted me. And that’s what it became: quiet. Menacingly quiet.
Santa Claus spanks young woman's bare bottom above the knee
Santa’s hand landed hard on my right buttock. A loud smack filled the room, followed by a sharp pain that spread across my skin.
I flinched and my legs kicked instinctively. But he held me firmly.
The next blow came quickly, this time on my left side. My bare bottom was on fire and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. But it didn’t help. His hand was merciless and each blow only set my bottom more on fire.
“Did you really think I was going to let all your bad behavior slide?” he asked as he worked my bottom relentlessly.
“B-but I-ah! I’m sorry!” I stammered between spanks.
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My legs wriggled and I tried to break free, but it was no use. His hand was holding me exactly where he wanted me: Above his knee.
“You’re sorry?” He laughed dryly. “I should hope so. But we’re not done yet.”
His blows came in a steady rhythm, first left, then right, now and then in the middle. My buttocks glowed and every impact made them tremble.
The humiliation of lying naked and bare across his lap was overwhelming. And yet I felt something else rising up inside me. A hot, tingling feeling that I couldn’t ignore.
“Please… I’m sorry! I’ll do better!” I finally pleaded, tears already streaming down my cheeks.
“Oh, you will,” he said calmly. But he didn’t let up. Instead, he reached for the rod.
St. Nicholas punishes naughty girls with the rod
I heard the hiss of the rod before the first blow hit my bare skin. A sharp pain shot through me and I cried out.
“Stop wriggling, young lady,” he ordered and the rod whizzed across my buttocks again. I tried to hold still, but my body didn’t obey. My legs kicked, my hands gripped nothing and I whimpered like a little girl.
“That’ll teach you a lesson,” said Santa and continued to discipline me. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you behave so cheekily.”
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After what felt like an eternity, he finally lowered the rod. I lay limply across his lap, my breathing was intermittent and my buttocks were throbbing with pain.
But to my surprise, I felt his hand lovingly stroking my glowing bottom. The touch was comforting, almost tender.
“You’ve had it,” he whispered. “Come up here.”
I sniffled and let him help me up. My face was streaked with tears and I felt small and defeated. But when he pulled me onto his lap and pressed me against his chest, a strange warmth flowed through me.
“It’s okay,” he murmured and stroked my back. “Sometimes it takes a bit of strictness to get back on track.”
I buried my face in his coat and felt my body tremble against his.
Despite the shame, despite the tears – or perhaps because of them – I couldn’t deny how aroused I was by the situation. My head was a mess of emotions, but deep down I knew that I would never forget this moment.
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