A Merry Spanking Christmas Eve

"Stand still. Tom."

"Why, Sarah?" I started to say, but the last bit was muffled by her kiss. A quick glance upwards confirmed I was underneath the mistletoe at the office Christmas party. The woman of my dreams was kissing me, but I was too embarrassed to respond in kind. She ground her pelvis against my rapidly hardening cock. Her hug was more than playful. Her bountiful bosom was crushed against my sunken chest. My cock surged full of blood. I felt ashamed and frightened.

In my mind, I heard the laughter of our peers here at Imagine Excess International world headquarters- "Cube Farm Central", as we engineers dubbed it. As Sarah released me, however, I recognized that no one was paying any attention to us. The party was in an advanced state of disorder. It being Christmas Eve, the very married and totally parental had departed. A few staff members were sleeping or passed out in their chairs. A hearty and hardy few were still sullenly guzzling punch by the wilted buffet. Off-key renditions of seasonal favorites emanated from the farthest reaches of the cube farm. The door to the Inner Sanctum was shut- a sign that the Big Boss had found another trophy. The New Years promotions list would signal the victim- or winner, if you prefer to view play for pay as a fair game.

Sarah was not only gorgeous, she was talented. She was a supervisor in our little group, but had earned it on merit. She had served first as Acting Boss for months before getting the permanent title in mid year. Rumour was this was after she had been denied a raise three years running for refusing to join the Big Boss' 'Christmas Bone-us' plan.

Sarah was in line for the next spot, replacing her recently fired boss, to become the highest ranking engineer in the company- just one level below the Big Boss, and complete with private office, although next to Cube Farm Central. There was no other woman qualified, so water cooler betting was she wouldn't have to sleep with the Big Boss to get the job. Unless her male fellow supervisor traded the Big Boss a weekend with his ex prom queen trophy wife for the slot. Speaking of which, hadn't I seen his wife arrive a while ago? But I hadn't seen her in a while. I started to wonder of it was her in with the Big Boss. Not that I was really paying attention. Sarah was fair prettier than some plastic 'Barbie meets Britney' wannabe. Especially tonight, in the elf outfit.

Normally, Sarah wore sensible shoes with either a pant suit or a knee length skirt and very prim blouse. We had all been shocked today when she arrived for the party dressed as Santa's Fave Elf, in a skimpy short outfit with jingle bells on the toes of her stiletto heels, and a top cut in a deep V between her obviously braless melons.

Throughout the party, the guys had jokes about hoping Santa's would leave her under their tree Christmas morning. I overcame my stutter to say, "But her tits would get caught in the chimney." Boy was I embarrassed when I realized she had heard me.

Now Sarah was dragging me by the hand, I knew not where. As we passed by the file drawers, I saw four tangled legs sticking out of an alcove. I recognized the hosiery worn by Mrs. Trimble, the Big Boss' very proper sixty year old secretary. Unless I was mistaken, the shoes belonged to Ned the copy boy. I turned to watch, but Sarah whizzed me past very quickly. Before I knew it, we were in the vacant office, until recently occupied by Sarah's boss. I blinked twice as Sarah's half exposed boobs bounced in front of me with the door slamming behind.

"You were very naughty, Tom, saying that joke about my boobs earlier. And it's naughtier to stare at them now. Don't you know what Santa brings naughty boys?"

"A sexy elf?" I said, hoping.

"No, silly, a lump of coal. One as big as that lump in your pants."

I blushed, unable to take my eyes of her tits. I noticed that despite her protests, her nipples were tenting out the felt cups of the halter nicely. My alcohol fueled hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Sarah slapped them away from her chest with quite a bit more energy than necessary.

"Just for that, I think Santa wants this elf to punish you a bit more than just a lump of coal."

"Say what?" Despite my shyness, and Sarah's seniority within Cube Farm Central, her kiss, her outfit, and well spiked punch emboldened my mouth.

"Drop your pants and bend over the desk, Tom."

"Wha…"

Whack. Sarah's tiny hand flew across my cheek, the force spinning my face around, the nails drawing blood. "And all through the house, not a creature was stirring, come on, Tom – time to show me your mouse."

She emphasized her control by backhanding me the other way. What made the scene even more remarkable is that Sarah is a blonde sprite, barely five feet tall, fine featured with baby thin platinum hair. The spike heeled shoes tilled her pelvis forward, offering up her ample chest, but that, with her delicate features were all that really distinguished her from a tiny girl elf in the school pageant. The contrast was heightened by my physical presence- over six feet tall, big framed, beefy but not yet fat. I laughed. I was Baby Huey, not Rambo. But even granted that, being slapped around by this little girl-woman was ridiculous.

I was too stunned to react. Sarah scowled. Her bosom heaved excitedly. Any more motion and her tits would jump right out of her top. Her blue eyes bore into me like twin diamond drills.

"If you don't behave, no sugar plums for you. Now drop trou and lean against the desk."

This time I began to obey, but apparently not quickly enough. Sarah grabbed my arms and spun me around, pressing me against the desk. The warmth of her almost naked tits distracted me as her nimble fingers danced over my buttons, opening my shirt then loosening my pants. Her fingernails grazed against the tip of my growing cock. Her tongue slid down my cheek, tasting the drops of blood oozing out of the scratches. Her breathe tickled my ear as she mewed.

My pants slid to the floor. Sarah stepped back, forcing my hips to bend, my underwear covered ass staring up at her. Her hand whacked my butt. "Strip, I said."

I peeled this final layer off. My cock flopped forward, into a rigid ninety degree angle. I understood the expression 'hard enough to pound nails' for the first time. Jerking off had never made me THIS hard.

I turned my head, silently pleading not to be humiliated more than I was every day, just by being a minion in the cube farm where this goddess was the overseer. The silly elf costume, the kiss under the mistletoe all seemed weirdly out of whack with both her silent domination each work day and her forceful presence tonight. Of course, she had never been physical with me before. I had contained my lust within, and if she noticed me staring those days she wore see through silk shirts, stockings with seams, or skin tight skirts, Sarah had never let on. If anything, she had ignored me even more than she ignored Sam Waters and the other engineers with egos bigger than their Palm Pilots when they loudly and crudely joked about her being 'engineered by Frigidaire', or 'a beautiful waste'.

I was off in dreamland. One the one hand, this was too good to be true. On the other, I instinctively knew I had to get out of here before I ended up in big trouble. My eyes searched for a way past Sarah, but kept settling on her magnificent cleavage. Sarah's voice pierced the fog.

"Face front. Santa doesn't cum for little boys who stay up to watch. But I think you like to watch, don't you, naughty boy?"

I opened my mouth to answer, just to be rewarded with another slap across my face. This was the point of no return. If I submitted to more, I belonged to Sarah. My chest filled with emotion. Oh, how I longed to belong to Sarah. In that moment, I realized this was a dream come true. No more shy guy. I could be Sarah's quiet giant. I struggled not to tremble, but stay as still as possible. I understood somehow that instant surrender was not what Sarah wanted or needed. She was humiliated herself by the ridiculous outfit. Working to reestablish control was rewarding for her. By submitting, even secretly, I opened new doors by which I understood control relationships. My arousal was obvious. Hers was more subtle, but I sensed a change in the scent of the room.

Sarah struck each buttock twice firmly, and then opened a drawer. It was become obvious that this evening was not entirely spontaneous when she pulled a set of Velcro handcuffs out. "Santa says naughty boys need to be restrained."

Sarah cuffed my hands behind me, awkwardly titling me further forward. I was rocking on the balls of my feet. The tension required to stay up made my whole body shake. I wondered if Sarah could hear the humming I felt.

A few more good slaps and my butt began to get sore. Sarah stepped away for a moment. "You're turning a nice Christmas red."

Next out of the drawer was a paddle- maybe an old ping pong paddle, but felt covered. Sarah sliced it through the air, adding an auditory aspect to our play. "I'm thinking that sounds like reindeer hoofies on the snow covered rooftops, don't you Tom?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mistress Elf."

Whack. The paddle stung exquisitely on my thigh. "That one is for the delay."

Whack.

"That one is to get your attention."

I went into a trancelike state. Sarah played with me like a cat with a mouse. Perhaps that very mouse which was not meant to stir. Throughout it all, though, my 'mouse' remained erect. The spanking continued. Sarah massaged my heated flesh, gently teasing my anus with a dancing fingertip. My hips rose back towards the blows, begging for more. As the slaps with the paddle gained force, I squirmed with a blend of desire and fear. Sarah ran her hand all around and inside my thighs, her nails raking my flesh, finishing with a rough squeeze of my balls and a tweak of my aching cockhead. Precum leaked out, droplets falling onto my thighs. Sarah noticed. "No coming until I say so." She squeezed my shaft tightly just above the root. At the same time her other hand drove the paddle against me with greater intensity.

Sarah announced she had given me one for each of the twelve days of Christmas. My ass stung delightfully.

Suddenly, Sarah spun me around, and pushed me up on the desktop, face up. Unfastening one wrist from the Velcro, just for a moment, she ran the chain around a handy pillar. My hands were stretched out above my head. My legs dangled off the edge of the desk. My cock stuck straight up. I noticed a sprig of mistletoe above my head.

"Time to stuff that up my chimney," Sarah said. She climbed up on me and swallowed my entire pole into her wet pussy without removing any part of her costume. In a remote corner of my brain, I registered that she must have been pantiless all party. Her juices flooded over my groin, lubricating her frantic bouncing. I watched her tits pop out of the scanty elf top.

Sarah grunted in apparent approval of the way my manhood filled her pussy. Her long fingernails raked her own flesh, kneading and pulling her nipples. She leaned forward and teased my lips with her nubs, rubbing them just along my teeth. Without warning she shifted, still pistoning my shaft. Instead of her boobs in my mouth, her teeth bit sharply into my lip, drawing blood. We paused in that position, her pussy walls kneading my cock like a fist, sharing my essence. I felt her spasm as she began moaning. It was my first experience of a female orgasm. The intensity that she resumed fucking was impressive. Sarah pounded her hips against mine. At one end of each stroke, I felt her cervix against the tip of my erection. Then as her pelvis would crash against me, she would twist her groin, grinding me into the desk "You might have splinters in the morning, naughty boy."

"Come inside me, Tom. Flood my with your cream, then I want you to eat me clean."

The command, so out of keeping with my sedate image of Sarah twelve hours go, put me over the top. My balls exploded. Jerking off was nothing compared to the rush I felt as pain totally turned to pleasure. Great gobs of goo pumped out the end of my cock, filling her pussy and running onto both our thighs. Sarah showed that she must have had years of ballet at some long past time, shimmying along my torso, leaving a trail of spunk. She planted her pussy right on my mouth, leaning her weight against the pillar. She rode my tongue like a merry-go-round, bouncing and twisting with my rhythms. I enjoyed the concoction of our creams, trying to distinguish her sweetness from my salty cum. "That's it, slut boy; lick me like the sugar plums dancing in your head."

Somewhere in the world, perhaps, like the night in Bethlehem two centuries ago, peace was in the land and there was joy to the world. But in the empty off, there would be no joy until my newfound Mistress had cum again. I didn't really mind. Sarah tasted wonderful. I laved the walls of her pussy clean greedily; licking up every scrap of my cum. Sarah's juices flowed, freshening her cunt. She reached down to stretch herself wider, finger herself as my tongue stabbed at her clit. She inserted a finger up her own anus, pumping with increased passion as my teeth and tongue made her clit dance. The walls of her pussy spasmed, cum gushing onto my face.

Finally, she collapsed across me with a groan, her energy spent. Sarah lay there for a moment, catching her breath. She noticed my pole had been revived by the joy of eating. We both looked at it. Then the spell was broken by a drunken rendition of "Deck the Halls" caroling through Cube farm Central towards our hiding spot.

"You're a very good little boy, come spend the rest of Christmas Eve with me and I'll ask Santa if I can eat your cock for Christmas."

And, oh yes, it was the ex-model in with the Big Boss, but instead of getting her husband a promotion, she divorced him and married the Big Boss. Sarah was promoted, and we lived happily ever after. Sarah never tired of finding new games to play, or new ways to punish me.

"And to all a good night."