Christmas

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

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Christmas

(***, M/F, Intense, fun, 'child' discipline)

An eager young lady discovers an unusual gift in her Christmas stocking... (Approximately 1,700 words. Originally published 1995-12.)

Little Jessica awoke at the crack of dawn. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt a remarkable tingling sensation running through her entire body, almost like electricity across the surface of her skin. She sat up in bed and shivered. She looked around the room with wide eyes and wondered why she was so alert. Then she remembered.

It was Christmas morning.

Her mind went back to the evening before when she had opened all kinds of wonderful, miraculous gifts--beautiful new dresses, a porcelain doll Jessica already knew she loved like a daughter, several books, and her very own silver tea-serving set, complete with slim tray, a slender, beautifully graceful teapot, and four tiny elegant cups and saucers.

She noiselessly slipped out of bed and carefully put on her slippers and robe. Daddy was still asleep and she didn't want to wake him. The clock said 6:13 so she knew it was very early, but she couldn't wait to see what was in her stocking. Daddy had promised her something very special this year, and she could hardly wait.

She trotted down the stairs happily, her heart thumping loudly and Jessica thought she had never felt more warm and content. She stopped at the landing and looked out over the beautiful living room. The sight took her breath away. It was dark, the quiet, peaceful twilight of the early morning, but the giant Christmas tree glowed and twinkled in a myriad of sparkling colors and lit up the room in a delightful, warm rainbow glow. She could see scraps of torn wrapping paper scattered about, stacks of boxes and gifts on the sofa and floor. In the soft twilight everything looked so much more romantic and larger-than-life that it made tears come to Jessica's eyes. Everything looked so wonderful, so homey and friendly and secure. Jessica wanted to cry.

But she also wanted to see what was in her stocking. She raced down the last section of stairs and like a streak of lightening bolted for the fireplace on the other side of the tree. Then she stopped suddenly, almost as though she'd ran into a plane of glass across her path.

In front of her was the mammoth fireplace, dying embers still faintly glowing, and from the mantle hung two large red stockings. The larger one said "Steven" in a careful white script, and the smaller one said "Jessica." And the petite girl in the frilly nightgown, robe hung loose around her shoulders, began to cry. She didn't make a sound but tears began to drip down her cheeks and her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest and she glanced around the room as though frightened that a monster would appear at any moment.

"This isn't very funny," she said out loud, her delicate lower lip curling downward in a classic naughty pout. The rebellious part of her spirit surged with sudden anger and resentment. "This isn't very funny at all!"

"Don't you _like_ your present?" said a new voice, deep and bold, with a touch of warning in it, and Jessica whirled around and saw the tall, handsome man watching her casually from the landing, a broad, clever smile on his face. Jessica opened her mouth and then shut it. She had to be careful here. It would be rude to say she didn't appreciate his gift, and she knew from experience that he dealt with rudeness very severely. But on the other hand, she couldn't lie and say she _liked_ the present, could she? The truth was always the best option, right? She thought carefully for a moment. Mostly she just felt rather betrayed.

"It's a very nice present, sir," she said at last in a small voice. "I just wasn't expecting, er, anything like that. Thank you very much, though."

"Well, why don't we try it out?" The man leapt off the landing and came toward Jessica. She paled and shook her head frantically and tried to stop him, but he was determined, the giant smile on his face as impassible as he was. Her heart aching, Jessica watched with despair as he went and carefully slid out the long, thin, white crock-handled cane sticking up from her stocking, and carefully carried it over to her.

She shivered as he placed it in her hands and she felt its weight and polished smoothness. It was very thin, perhaps a quarter-inch at its thickest point, extremely flexible and bendable, and very strong. Definitely a well-made, expensive cane. At about three feet long Jessica knew that it would hurt like the devil when it cut into her and this caused a strange shivering in her belly as she thought of the taste of that cane. And Daddy wanted to try it out. Now.

Tears came to her eyes and she looked up at the tall man, his features blurring through her watery eyes, and his smile, though kind and friendly, was also firm. Jessica knew there was no way to escape his "gift" and so with a body aching with reluctance she slowly handed him the cane.

"Over the back of the couch," he said casually, as though giving her a tip on how to unwrap an awkward package. "Slip off your robe first. We can't have it getting in the way."

Clad in only her flimsy nightgown and slippers, Jessica bent her body over the back of the couch so far forward that the tips of her toes barely touched the floor. Steven came over beside her and carefully lifted up her nightgown to expose her plump, naked bottom. "No panties, I see," he said with a gentle giggle.

Jessica could feel her face flushing with embarrassment at this exposure. This was almost worse than the pain, standing and waiting, half-naked like this. The air brushing against her bottom made the skin tingle with alertness and Jessica couldn't breath, waiting for that first stroke of sizzling pain.

"What shall we do, three or six?" murmured Steven thoughtfully, eying the delicious bottom before him. The curves were round and impertinent, the thighs sleek and smooth. He could hardly wait to try out Jessica's new toy.

But Jessica didn't answer his question directly. Instead she moaned and wiggled and cried out something like, "Oh, please, sir, please Daddy, let's not use the cane!"

"All right, then six it is!" exclaimed the man pleasantly, eagerly, as though she had answered his question directly, and ignoring her cries of protest he carefully stood back, aimed, and brought the cane with a loud swish of air and a tremendous _crack_ right across the center of the naughty girl's rump.

Jessica let out a shriek and her whole body trembled. It took all her strength to stay in position, waiting for the rest. The stripe of pain across her buttocks was unbelievable. It hurt as much as half-a-dozen paddle strokes, she thought, but concentrated into a single thin line of fire. She moaned loudly and tears dripped down her face.

CRACK! This one was even worse, a little lower, at the top of the plumpest part of Jessica's bottom, and now she had twin lines burning into her. She was amazed that she could feel both strokes distinctly, even though they were just a half-inch a part.

When the third stroke came, full across the middle of the lower portion of her buttocks, Jessica lost all control. She began to sob and beg and wiggled and did just about everything except move her hands back to protect herself. She clenched the cushions of the couch so tightly her hands went white and ached with the strain.

Again and again the cane came down, each searing blow taking the girl's breath away and making her squeal and moan in agony. The terrifying sound of each stroke sent uncontrollable shivers down her spine and by the end the girl was a quivering mass of flesh and mindless fear. She could not think clearly but simply through herself into the man's arms and sobbed and sobbed until his pajama top was soaked through with her tears.

He petted her hair and whispered sweet phrases into her ear and slowly she became aware of his words and his gentle caresses and she began to cry again because he was so wonderful. "Oh, Steven," she exclaimed, her role forgotten, "that was the most incredible experience of my life. I can't thank you enough. I still can't believe I had the nerve to go through with it!"

"You know I love you more than life itself," he whispered, tears glistening in his bright blue eyes. Jessica began to cry again at this and hugged him tighter. She felt like she couldn't breathe, couldn't obtain enough air, that her whole world was so happy and wonderful that it was smothering her.

"This is the best Christmas ever!" she exclaimed, breathing in Steven's dark scent as she pressed her head against his chest. "I never want it to end!"

"But there's still one more present you haven't opened," came the soft voice, a hint of amusement behind it.

Jessica froze, her heart beating wildly. More? How could she take more? Wasn't her first caning special enough? Did he also have a new paddle, or perhaps a long leather strap in that stocking? She trembled in fear at the thought, her bottom aching and stinging still, and she moaned and pulled away from her husband in very real terror. "Please, Steven, no more. I can't take more. Please, I beg, you, please, you've given me so much already, please," she whispered frantically, her words tumbling over each other into a delirious banter.

He smiled gently at her. "I think you will _like_ this present. It's a very special one, very personal to me. It's right here..." His hand took hers firmly and guided it toward a certain opening in his pajama bottoms. "Just undo this button, see..."

Suddenly Jessica felt a wave of pleasure wash through her and like a hungry tigress she ripped open the pants with complete disregard for the fabric and took out her last present, the one she cherished most of all...

The End

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