The Advent Calendar – A Christmas Spanking tale.
She stared at the advent calendar in horror. It had happened in a blink of an eye. One moment, she’d a couple in her mouth, the next she’d wolfed down ten days’ worth of chocolate treats. She scrunched the discarded wrappers in her fist and licked her lips with her sugar coated tongue.
Two weeks before Christmas day, and she’d consumed each day’s worth of chocolate nugget until the twenty-second. Her diet was having a disastrous effect on her self-control. Her craving for sweet things was much worse when forbidden to binge. How was that possible? She’d diligently avoided desserts, cakes and cookies, and she’d packed away the candies and given them to her niece. Only the advent calendar had survived her purge and she’d told him, “Just one a day, that’s all I need.”
She hid the wrappers at the bottom of the wastepaper bin. The calendar, which was covered in a picture of Santa Claus, was harder to hide as he would spot it was gone from the mantelpiece. Perhaps, she could glue the little doors back shut. Picking at the edge of one with her fingernail, she tried to squeeze it into place, but each time, it sprung open again, revealing the empty cavity behind.
“Drat,” she muttered. David was due home any minute.
Digging around in a kitchen drawer, she found some clear sticky tape and attempted to seal the cardboard door closed with a slither. Too much tape and it would show, too little and it wouldn’t hold. The sticky tape curled and once again, the fourteenth of December unveiled the picture of the elf hidden behind the door. The tiny caricature seemed to be sniggering at Sally, as if the imp knew she’d committed an offence—breach of trust.
When he’d brought it home after work, she’d promised David she’d be good and he’d warned her, “Don’t ruin it by scoffing them all on one day. I know you and chocolate. There will be consequences.”
“Who’s to know anyway? It’s just an advent calendar,” she’d smirked.
“I will. In any case, it’s the principle. One day at time. Self-discipline.” He’d wagged his finger in her face.
The front door opened. David was home. Sally backed away from the mantelpiece and grimaced. All those days uncovered, blatant and bare. Silly calendar—why had he bought it in the first place?
“Hi, honey,” he kissed her cheek. “Good day?”
She nodded. “Fancy a coffee? Would you like me to cook you dinner?”
“Nah. I ate lunch late. We can sit and relax for a bit.”
“Sure, cause, I’m happy to cook you something.” She edged towards the kitchen door, drawing him away from the fireplace and the advent calendar.
“What’s up?” He stroked one of her hot cheeks with his fingertip. “You’re flushed.”
“Just been tidying up…putting things away.” She gestured to the less than tidy living room.
“I know what will cheer you up,” he beamed and turned on his heel. “How about today’s advent chocolate.”
“No, no,” she snatched at his hand. “Don’t need that.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Not like you to turn down chocolate, even a morsel of it.”
“I’m…saving up for dinner.” She tugged on his arm, but he slipped his fingers out of her palm.
“Sal-ly.” He drawled, dragging out the last syllable. Too late, he’d spotted it. “What’s happened to the calendar?”
She cringed and watched David flick through the days, poking his finger into the empty holes. He counted them.
“Thirteen days. You’ve eaten thirteen pieces of chocolate.”
She gulped and swung her arms by her sides. “It just happened.”
“So today is the twenty third, not the tenth?”
“We’ve skipped a few days. Christmas is coming early in our house.” She attempted a joke.
David frowned. “Honey, what’s with the sticky bits of tape? Did you try to seal them shut again?”
“I…I…” She hung her head in acknowledgment.
He sighed. “My niece is visiting tomorrow. I promised her she could have one. Remember?”
Sally sucked her cheeks in and winced. Yes, she remembered.
David returned the calendar to the mantelpiece. “We’ll have to buy a new one.”
“Look at me, Sally.”
Dammit. That voice of his was one she couldn’t refuse. She lifted her chin. He wore his smartest suit. The one she drooled over when he put it on in the morning. Dark, tailored and elegant, he commanded her in so many ways. The adrenaline had kicked in and excited all the wrong parts of her body. She clamped her knees together and tucked her trembling hands behind her back.
He cleared his throat. “No more binges, you said. And,” he held up his hand to halt her emerging protest, “it doesn’t matter about the size of those treats. It’s the principle. So, that’s what we’re sticking to. You agreed about the consequences, didn’t you?”
He circled around her, then sat in the middle of the sofa, rucking up his trousers as he lowered. With slow ponderous movements, he settled himself into position: unbuttoning his jacket, loosening his tie a fraction and removing his cufflinks—something he considered a precaution. However, it didn’t alter his appearance dramatically, because David was always smart. Always in charge. She loved it.
“Can’t we wait to later. Bedtime?” she pleaded, making it sound as pathetic as possible, while inside her stomach danced with butterflies.
“No. Over you go. Oh, skirt up.” He patted his lap.
She shuffled towards him, then eased her hips over his legs. Her hair draped over her face and she reached out with the hands, searching for something to hold.
Her bottom, perched on his knees, offered him two cool lobes. Untainted in days, the skin smooth and ready. She clenched her cheeks and stiffened.
“Thirteen,” he informed. “No warm up.”
“Oh,” she muttered and wriggled her hips, trying hard to lose the tension.
“Keep still,” he warned. “I can’t believe you tried to cover this up, Sally.”
“I left it on the mantelpiece,” she reminded him. A display of guilt. Wasn’t that mitigation?
He smacked her bottom. The sound echoed about the room and she gasped. “Ow! David, not so hard.”
“Sally. Do you tell me what to do? Heh?” He tapped her shoulder.
She peeked out from under her fringe. “No. I’m your girl, sir.”
“That’s right. I’m here to help you, Sally. No binge eating, no taxis when you can walk, no missing trips to the gym. No disrespecting me.” He picked out the salient rules. The ones she suggested and he had embroidered into their agreement.
Another wallop, then a third in quick succession: he swept his hand across her sit spot and targetted her sensitive crease with accuracy. She responded by drumming her toes on the arm of the sofa.
She held her breath and felt the slither of her panties being lifted off her bottom, down her cheeks and around her thighs. David clucked his tongue. “This is going to be one red ass by the time I’ve finished. You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” she squeaked as he hammered another blow across both buttocks.
“You’ll go out and by exactly the same calendar.” He slapped again. The pain seared into her flesh and she squealed, almost launching herself off his lap.
He pinned her down, looping his arm around her waist. “If you want Santa to squeeze himself down that chimney and leave you a present, you best behave!”
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed.
Each smack left a fire burning. She’d be super sore tomorrow and unable to sit comfortably. It would be a perfect reminder. She sniffed and fought back the desire to kick her legs.
“This,” he aimed at the same damn spot, using the spanks to re-enforced his words, “This, sweet ass of yours is the only thing in this house that will be unwrapped before Christmas. Understood? I’m going so spank your bare bottom every morning before you go to work as a reminder, just to keep you focused.”
Every day! Her poor bottom. “Thank you,” she snivelled. The last smack cracked against bottom.
Finally, he started to rub. Wonderful circles of his smooth palm and the pain, the heat, merged across her ass, easing the hot spots.
“Good girl. That’s better,” he said softly. “You can get up in a minute, after I’ve finished. I’ll help you make that dinner. I suggest you keep your panties off.”
She squirmed as he slid his fingers between her wet folds, seeking out her quivering hole. Sprawled across his lap, she relaxed. Beneath her hips, he’d hardened. After dinner, she was confident his promised unwrapping would include more than her red ass cheeks.
Christmas was coming early for Sally.