Chapter 16

Liselotte

“How do you want to redecorate our new bedroom room?” Gerhard says, each word timed with the stroking of my back. With a huff, I lift my head from his chest and roll onto my back. I’d rather nap than talk. After a grueling session with the elves where Gerhard—Santa—turned their world upside down, I’m emotionally drained. We retired to our room until dinner, stripped off our clothes, and laid down to decompress.

“Are you kidding? The vaulted ceilings, the ornate murals painted on the walls, and—have you felt the plushy give to the carpets? This is worlds better than my apartment—even nicer than your home on Earth. No offense.”

“None taken,” he says with a chuckle. “But one of the things I love about you is your sense of style. The elves could learn a thing or two about complementary colors and matching schemes from you.”

“Well, whoever picked this room's hunter green and gold color scheme was a genius. Although the solid gold tub big enough to hold four Krampuses is a bit much.” My giggles choke the end of my sentence. The first thing I did when he showed me the room was run to the bathtub and climb in.

“Then it suits us because we are a bit much.” His tone is more philosophical than joking. His facial expression is serious, his eyes squinted as if he were searching for something far away. I run my fingertip over his eyebrows to smooth the worries behind the frown. “Ask any elf, and they will agree we are more than they bargained for.”

“Especially Star Anise. I thought Dalia was about to faint when you announced his promotion to Head Elf of Adult Toys and Games. Are you so generous because of his extended stay on Earth? I was shocked when we found him at your ex-wife’s house.”

“No comment on her and her tastes. She’s my past, and Star Anise is part of my future. I can’t give adults with child-like spirits toys that aren’t age-appropriate, and he has a greater knowledge of BDSM than he’s letting on. Don’t ask me how I know, just trust me.”

“Ahh, the sees you when you’re sleeping thing…” Although I’m confident that’s the answer, I don’t understand why Gerhard looks at me like the cat who ate the canary.

“Right, at least the Krampuses seem happy with the trade agreements reinstated and the combined delivery routes. Having the elf and Krampus assigned to the same territory travel together is safer, and they seemed to agree.” He changes the subject from Star Anise in a mercurial way, doesn’t he?

“The elves will come around. It’s the changes to the lists that blew their shirts off. Adding a grace period and tapping another human to intervene before adding someone to the naughty list adds grey areas to the list assignments. But at the end of the day, it’s your job you complicate, so their feelings are irrelevant.” He brightens at my support and kisses me.

“I just know Dirk—and all my students like Dirk—wouldn’t have been on the naughty list with better outlets for their emotions and someone to listen to them. That’s why I took nonviolent outbursts and public meltdowns off the infraction list. What if young males could express their emotions freely instead of bottling them up or releasing them in toxic yet masculine activities?”

“What if humans were allowed imperfect behavior in public, and the public’s first reaction was compassion instead of judgment?”

“Exactly, except I hope this also spreads to Lady Krampuses in training.” He kisses the tears from my cheeks. I hadn’t realized how much in common I had with Dirk. His rage at his parent’s divorce tortured him as fiercely as my perfectionism. “They do call me The Big Man, after all.”

“Thank you for shoving your Big Man Energy around to enact change. You’ve made your son and kleine dame very proud.” I snuggle into his side, confident his mood is lighter.

“I’m glad you feel that way, because it puts you in dire straits,” he says, resuming the gentle stroking of my back.

“What do you mean? I’ve not decided my role on Christmas Island—”

“Your role is to carry and raise our children. Anything else you choose to do is a bonus. I seem to remember the promise of breeding which brought me to this realm.”

“Hmmm, I like where this is headed—” I swing my leg over his legs and shift my hips so his hand drops from my back to my ass.

“Fantastic, because by my calculations, you owe me this delicious backside over a dozen times.” The room goes cold as his tone deepens into the seductive growl of my master.

“Owe you?” I squeak with excitement.

“Nine years of spankings in my house that were unwarranted under my new intervention protocol—” His hand taps my cheeks lightly with the promise of more.

“But we would have never met…”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” he says, rubbing his chin. “I think a dozen spankings a year times nine years adds up to one hundred and eight swats to your delectable derriere, a suitable atonement for your overzealous punishing of humans in my home.” He punctuates his words with a smack that echoes up the high ceilings.

“Oh? Are you going to let every homeowner of the children I visited over the last hundred years spank me, too? Will there be a line across Ohio of men with me at the head, trapped in a pillory?”

“One hundred and nine for that remark,” he growls.

I’m on my hooves and off the bed. He bounces up and grabs at my tail, but I’m too fast. My hooves clack down the steps of our raised bed platform before they sink into the carpet. I circle the couch in time to brace myself for the boom as he jumps from the bed platform to the recessed sitting area. He wears the same devilish smile I wear as we stare at one another, leaning over the opposite arms of the green couch. I fake right but run left. Gerhard steps over the arm to stand on the couch. His fingertips brush my arm as he barely misses.

I round the easy chair, pass the fireplace, and dive under my vanity when Gerhard cuts my path. I either hide within the ornate legs of the mirror stand or try to get past him. The stool flies from view. I scrunch my legs when his calloused hand lowers to grab them. My giggles fill the space as his knees creak and crack. Once he’s crouched, I’ll spring from my hiding place. It will take him precious time to stand up again.

“You’ve earned a permanent spot on the naughty list,” he says with a wince as he lowers himself to the carpet. Once on his hands and knees, he adds, “How do you plead?”

“I’m a brat!”

His chuckles decorate my wake as I sprint to our walk-in closet.

It’s a dead end, but I’m spoiled for choice of hiding places. There’s another bench I could hide beneath, but Gerhard won’t fall for the same trick twice. I bet the metal hangers would hold my weight if I climbed into one of his suits. How funny would it be to hang there as he slides the clothes apart to see if I’m behind them? Or how about his boots cabinet? I could slide open the drawer, tuck myself inside, and let the door auto-shut. Or I could climb up to my hat storage shelf—

I screech as I’m grabbed from behind. My hooves leave the ground as Gerhard’s muscular arm wraps around my ribs. The fingers of his opposite hand dip between my legs to find my slit sopping wet. He hums against my ear in satisfaction. My heart pounds with anticipation.

“Let’s see if you like being spanked as much as you love earning them,” he whispers.

“Give them to me,” I beg between gulps of air.

He sits on the bench, dangling me to the side as if I were a doll. It’s so hot to be physically maneuvered and used like his toy. I’ve never felt as desired and treasured in my life. He drapes me over his legs so my belly rests on his thighs. The base of his erection rubs my side as the tip drips onto my back. He’s so tall that I must stretch to touch the tip of my hooves to the floor, so I let them swing. It adds to my feeling of submission that I love. My head hangs next to his calf, watching his hand tease my breasts.

I may climax before he starts. He smooths my tail along my spine to rest the fuzzy tip where my neck meets my shoulder. I’m on the edge…when his hold changes to the back of my neck and the top of my thighs, lightly pressing me down. I couldn’t move if I wanted. I’m pinned like prey beneath a predator—a predator with my arousal dripping down the outside of his leg.

“Bad girl, don’t you know you aren’t supposed to peak during a punishment? If you do, I’ll edge you all night.” His threat sends chills down my spine because I know he has the skills to carry it out. I tremble until his anchoring hand smooths over my ass. Up and down, he strokes over the cheek, the length of my slit, and then along the far cheek. The rhythmic motion sends me to subspace.

Crack!

He doesn’t hold back as he peppers my backside from the dimples in my lower back to the middle of my thighs. The thigh swats hurt. His hand returns to kneading and teasing my breasts as he rains blows on my feverish flesh. I hear myself begging for more from a distance as I float on the edge of reality. The stings are darts of pleasure that have my clit pulsing in time with his spanks.

“Who spanks you?”

“My master,” I wail. My subspace slips from my grasp as his question pulls me to the present. I feel every sting and sore spot more acutely.

“Do you like it when your master spanks you?”

Mortification heats my face hotter than my sore bottom. I can’t say how much I love how he dominates me. It’s counter to my nature, a reminder of how, inside, I’m a failure as a Krampus… The spankings resume on my red-hot bottom. My moans fill the small space as I press my backside into the air for more. Something shifts deep inside of me, reshaping my identity. I’m still strong and capable Liselotte, but without the mask to fit in.

I’m no longer a Krampus, am I? I’m Mrs. Claus submitting to her Santa.

“I love it! I want it! Use me! Punish me! Breed me!” I scream my demands as tears roll down my cheeks. I’ve broken through my old, fake self, embracing what I held deep inside where no one could see me.

“There’s my kleine dame ,” he says, rising off the bench. He arranges me delicately on my hands and knees where he once sat. His fingers tease my entrance until my hips buck. Then two fingers scissor to widen my vagina to take him.

“Please, I want you,” I cry.

“Not as much as I want you.” He slides inside me to the hilt. I tilt my hips, rubbing my ass against his pelvis to adjust our fit. Hesitantly, he withdraws and plunges inside. I lose control with the maddening slowness of his thrusts.

“More!” I yell before rocking backward. He holds my hips but allows me to take my pleasure. When I wail with the force of my climax, he hammers his seed deep within me.

“I love you, Mrs. Claus,” he says, collecting me into his arms and carrying me to our outrageous bathtub. “I’ll never tire of taking care of you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll always need you to care for me. Thank you for standing by my side.”

“That’s where a true partner belongs.”