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Tuesday, 24 December 2019

Santa’s Little Belter

More Reich Girls after Christmas. In the meantime a festive story from Kane 76. Happy Christmas!
Well, thought Linda, this has got to be the most ridiculous way I have ever earned a living. Bar none. Here I am, a talented budding actress, reduced to this. It’s not that I couldn’t get work on the stage, especially at this time of year, but pantomime just is not me. I want to be a serious artist, not prancing around in some stereotype infantile role.
On the other hand, she reflected, dressing as an elf and standing in the middle of a department store is not exactly the height of sombre drama. Nevertheless she had rent to earn, and on top of that there were her half-dozen nephews and nieces. Those small people certainly made Christmas expensive. She needed the money, and just prayed nobody who knew her happened to wander through the store.
Not only did her costume make her feel ridiculous, it also made her feel vulnerable. Having to wear that pixie hat over her long blonde hair was bad enough, but the green shorts, which must have been bought for a girl two sizes smaller, left very little to the imagination. Her legs were protected only by sheer green tights, and after six weeks of unwanted male attention and ribald comments, she was just about sick of it all. She had tried a trick suggested by a model friend who did car shows, giving marks out of ten for originality, but what really got to her were the fathers who copped a sly grope as she ushered their children in to see Santa Claus. Of course she had to take it all with a smile. Store policy was not to upset the customers or their kids, especially at the most lucrative time of the year.
At least today was over, and there was only a week to go. The shop had closed half an hour ago and only a few of the staff were still tidying up. She slipped on her overcoat ready to leave.
‘Okay Linda, I’m off now.’ It was Father Christmas, or at least David, the retired security guard who came back each year to supplement his pension by playing the part. ‘I’m going to the staff room to change, then I’ll be gone. Don’t forget to stack the presents inside the grotto, or security will think they’re suspicious packages and call in the bomb squad.’
‘Okay, good night David,’ answered Linda, as his broad beam headed towards the lifts. She picked up the two sacks, labelled ‘boys’ and ‘girls’, and carried them into the brightly decorated tent which the camping department had thought would pass for Santa’s home. Each sack contained gift-wrapped packages which she dished out to the kids after they had given Santa their greedy wish-lists. She dropped the bags in the corner as she did every night, and was about to leave when a thought stopped her in her tracks. She was only doing this so she could afford presents for her nephews and nieces, right? But here were two sackfuls of ready-wrapped gifts which would do just as well! They were only discontinued stock, old toys which the store would not sell even if they were left over after Christmas. If she sneaked a couple out each night, who would know?
At first she baulked at the idea of stealing, then the little devil inside seemed to hijack her morality. All the verbal and physical harassment she had endured in the past six weeks flashed through her mind, along with the pittance she was getting for putting up with it. ‘Sod it’ she said, ‘those bastards owe it to me!’
She went back to the bags and pulled a medium-sized parcel from each one. Although she did not know exactly what was in them she had a good idea it would be something suitable for any of her two sisters’ brats. Tucking them into the pockets of her overcoat, she stood up and turned to leave… and found herself staring straight up into the white-bearded frowning face of Santa!
‘And exactly what do you think you’re doing?’ growled David.
‘I… er, I mean… I was…’ she spluttered, feeling the colour drain from her face and her legs wobble.
‘I’ll tell you what you’re doing, shall I?’ he interrupted. ‘I come back because I’ve forgotten my pipe and I catch you in the act of pilfering from your employer!’
Linda saw there was no point arguing. He had obviously seen everything. ‘I didn’t think anyone would miss them… they’re for my nephew and niece. I’ll put them back’ she muttered lamely.
‘And that’s supposed to make it okay is it? How do I know this is the first time you’ve nicked stuff?’
‘Oh, but it is!’ she protested.
‘I’ve only got your word for that’ he retorted. ‘And anyway, theft is theft. I learned that being a security guard all those years. And I also learned thieves have to be punished to stop them doing it again.’
Linda’s heart sank, along with her head. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked miserably, ‘report me?’
‘By rights, that is the correct procedure’ said David. Then a curious tone crept into his voice. ‘Of course, there is an alternative.’ He carried on before she could ask the obvious question. ‘I’ve never believed in taking the law into my own hands, but I also know the system gets clogged up with too many minor offences which could be dealt with, erm, unofficially, so to speak.’ He seemed to have become a little nervous himself, as though here were something he was plucking up courage to ask.
‘What exactly are you talking about?’ Linda asked with a little apprehension.
‘If I report you, you’ll certainly be dismissed, maybe even prosecuted. For a girl of your age to get a criminal record would be a shame. I don’t want to do that to you, because I do believe you when you say this is the first time you’ve done it. And you’re the best little elf I’ve had in years. On the other hand, you should be punished, but I think I could do that job quite sufficiently myself — the old-fashioned way.’
‘How would you… punish me?’ said Linda, a horrible idea already half-forming in her mind.
‘Young lady, weren’t you ever spanked or caned at school? No, I suppose you’re of an age when corporal punishment would hardly have been used. And look where such liberalism got you, eh? Stealing from Father Christmas!’
Linda was speechless.
‘Look, I expect it’s a bit of a shock to you. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to decide what you want — to be dealt with by the authorities, or by me and have it stop here. I’ll wait outside the grotto.’
As David withdrew Linda sank despairingly into the chair he occupied during the day, playing his role as a jolly Santa. She now saw that the real David behind the beard was a million miles from that. She ran through the alternatives. At best she would lose her job, at worst her career as an actress would be blighted, maybe even ended, by a criminal record. But if she let David punish her here and now she was sure it would be painful and humiliating. But it would stop here, wouldn’t it? David could hardly report her if she could hold a scandalous assault like that against him!
She stood up, gathered her courage, told herself ‘I am a talented actress and this is just another role I have to play,’ and went out to meet her fate.
David turned as she came out. ‘Okay’ she said, trying to keep her tone steady. ‘You win. What exactly do you want me to do?’
‘Well first of all, back in the grotto. We’ve only got about quarter of an hour before they do the security sweep of this floor.’ They went back into the tent and David took his seat as Linda turned to face him. ‘Take off your overcoat’ he ordered softly. She did so, letting it slip to the floor with the fateful presents still in the pockets. ‘Now take down your shorts and tights.’
‘What!’ exploded Linda in disbelief.
‘Come on Linda, it wouldn’t be a proper punishment through all that padding. Those are my terms, and if you don’t like them we can go to the head of security’s office instead. I’ll let you keep your knickers on while I spank you. That’s if you’re wearing any.’
‘Of course I am, you dirty sod!’ she snapped back, then regretted it as she saw his eyes harden and realised she had now made things worse for herself. With tears welling, she fumbled with the buttons of her shorts. As the top two were released she breathed out, getting a little relief from loosening the tight garment. But as she carried on down the fly this feeling rapidly vanished.
When her shorts were completely open she gave her tormentor one last despairing look but saw no change in his expression. So, putting her thumbs inside her tights and her fingers outside the waist band she began to pull them down. Because of the size of the shorts she had to wriggle her hips to ease them over her bottom, taking great care to leave her white bikini briefs in place.
The enforced striptease was torture for her. If there was one part of her body she hated other people seeing it was her bum. While everything else was in more or less the right proportions, her bottom had seemed to grow with a will of its own, until it reached what seemed to Linda twice the size it should have been. This had added to her problems getting into the shorts, and made her even more self-conscious standing in the store. Now here she was being forced to expose her fat bottom to this dirty old man!
She did not know whether he wanted her to remove the clothes completely so she carried on pushing them down her thighs. When they reached her knees he suddenly called ‘stop!’ She did so immediately, letting go of the material and standing up, trying to stare defiantly at him. Not easy, she thought. Christ, if I felt stupid standing in the store fully-clothed, how must I look now, with the blouse and jerkin still in place, that stupid bobble-hat perched on my head and the bottom half of my costume hanging round my knees.
‘Now’ said David firmly, ‘come and find out what bad girls get on Santa’s knee.’
Dejectedly she hobbled the few steps towards him, and put up no resistance as he seized her wrists and pulled her across his lap. She went limp as she lay there, hoping the path of least resistance would be the least painful. She soon found that was probably not going to be the case.
David’s hand cracked down onto her defenceless rear with a sickening splat. The sharp pain which shot through her bottom proved the panties he had allowed her to retain would be little protection. When the initial shock wore off and she had given sufficient voice to her feelings, she realized the blow had landed entirely on her left cheek. But she only had a few seconds to think about this, before a second slap came on top of it.
‘Eeeeh!’ she wailed, as the pain of the first spank was added to.
‘Do try and keep the noise down my dear,’ David chided. ‘The only other people in the building are security guards, old colleagues of mine. I doubt they’d disapprove, and you certainly wouldn’t want them watching the rest of your punishment, would you?’
The thought sent a chill through Linda, so when the third whack hit home she let out a much more muted moan. It was soon followed by a fourth, fifth and sixth, all of which she greeted with as much restraint as possible, even though she felt as if her left buttock were on fire.
After the sixth spank there was a longer pause, but Linda did not need to be a genius to know what was coming. And it came, David’s palm making short but heavy contact with her right cheek. Although it hurt, Linda felt a weird sense of relief that he had finished tormenting its neighbour.
This did not last long though. As a second and third blow landed she found her mental resistance crumbling, and forgetting the facade she was trying to keep up she pleaded with David: ‘Oh! Oh God, no! Please stop David, please, no more!’
To her infinite delight he did stop, but her spirits dropped to a new low when he spoke. ‘Now now Linda, only three more of these and you can stand up.’ And he cracked his hard hand against her skin one more time. Linda broke into a series of choking sobs, as the fifth and sixth blows hit home. And then they ended.
David eased her back onto unsteady feet. With her head hanging in shame and embarrassment, she tried to rub away the agony in her burning rear. Gradually she felt it subside into a warm tingling sensation, still painful but not as unpleasant as the spanking itself. Her crying eased a little.
David had got up and moved behind her. She realised he was probably ogling her big red bottom but by now she just did not care. But his next words shook her to the core. ‘Now I think it’s time for the second half of your punishment, Linda.’
She span round to see he had taken off the wide leather belt from his Father Christmas outfit and was doubling it up in his hands. ‘You’re… you’re not going to use that bloody thing on me!’ She meant it as a statement, not a question.
‘But Linda, you can’t call a gentle spanking a proper punishment for what you did. I even let you keep your knickers on.’
‘But I’ve done what you asked!’ she protested. ‘You never said you were going to do that to me!’
‘And I never said I wasn’t. There’s no going back now my dear. Kneel up on the chair please.’
For a moment she considered refusing. If he reported her she would tell them about the spanking. But it would be her word against his. And why, they would be bound to ask, would an intelligent, independent woman give in to such an outrageous suggestion? She would have to tell them about her illicit attempt at Christmas shopping. The grotto she had walked into was in fact a very clever trap laid by this particular Santa.
Feeling she had sunk as low as she ever could, she climbed miserably onto the seat, placing her arms on its back, just as David directed her to. A second later she felt his fingers through the waistband of her briefs. She turned her head and shot her left hand down to stop his next move, but he anticipated this and let go of the elastic to grab her wrist, which he then placed firmly on top of the chair. ‘Aaaah!’ she gasped, as her underwear arrived to join her tights and shorts at her knees, exposing her throbbing nates to his gaze and completing her total humiliation.
She buried her face in her hands, having no desire to see what was about to happen. She heard David take a deep breath, then there was a short whistling sound — followed by the most agonising shot of pain she had ever felt as the strap landed squarely across the meat of her buttocks.
‘Eeeaagh!’ she called out, her head jerking back with the pain. But as soon as she regained her composure she hid her face again.
She was better prepared for the second stroke, and just grunted through gritted teeth as it landed a little higher than the first. She found the pain of the belt duller than the spanking, although spread over a much wider area. With the third blow she noticed how it hurt more near the edges of the belt, as it bit into her flesh below where the first had landed. When the fourth came diagonally up from left to right, covering the whole of her tortured cheeks, she knew she was coming to the end of her physical limits of endurance, but she would be damned if she was going to give that bastard the pleasure of hearing her beg for mercy again. Summoning all her inner strength she stoically braced herself for the next blow, which landed across the others again, this time down from left to right.
Drawing her breath in stiff, racking sobs, her body stiffened again as the leather landed a sixth time. But this was at the tender juncture of her bottom and thighs, which, as yet untouched, seemed particularly vulnerable, and the torture which jolted through her body made her lose her grip on the chair. She collapsed into a ball on the seat. Gradually recovering, she painfully pulled herself back into position for the next agonising blow. But instead of the low whistle of the flying belt she heard David’s emotionless voice. ‘No Linda, I think you’ve learned your lesson. I’ll leave you to get dressed.’ And with that he was gone.
Linda struggled to her feet, her breathing almost normal again, her bottom certainly anything but. She rubbed it furiously, hoping to numb the sting, then began to rearrange her clothes. As she made herself decent she thought over the last ten minutes. ‘I’ve just been given a bloody good hiding, the first of my life, and by Father Christmas! Ho ho bloody ho!’ And despite the pain she could not resist a smile at how ludicrous the whole thing was.
As she walked stiffly out of the tent she saw on the floor the two presents which had been the cause of all her problems. David must have taken them from her jacket, but why did he leave them there? As she bent to take them back to the grotto she saw a note beneath them, which she picked up. It read: ‘Dear Linda, don’t forget these — you’ve earned them. Happy Christmas, Santa Claus…’


  1. Finally something I can relate to as an american. Good story

  2. And something I can identify with as a dirty old Brit who approves of the idea of belting the Christmas cheer out of attractive girls.