Page 144 of Santa Daddies

The fate of Christmas hanging in the balance? What in the world? My brain raced trying to make sense of his words as his hard hand crashed down across my upturned bottom, again and again.

There were fractured thoughts trying to connect, but nothing that made sense. If this had been yesterday, that would have made more sense. Today it made none at all.

Whatever was happening though, Santa was mad. As was evidenced by my stinging ass and the way he was giving me no time to take a breath between swats.

“Stop!” I cried, throwing my hands back. “What is going on?”

He grabbed my wrists and made to pin them at the center of my back, but I wrenched myself from his hold, and backed up against the wall, my chest heaving and my cheeks darkening with anger as I stared at him.

“Get back over here,” he growled, undoubtedly expecting obedience.

“No.” I was practically shaking, but I met his stare with a cold glare of my own and held my ground. “Absolutely not. Not until you explain why you are so upset, why the fate of Christmas is in danger, what it has to do with me, and why you are spanking me without telling me any of those things.”

Just like that, my husband deflated before my very eyes. The anger on his face melted into fear, his stance seemed to soften, and he rubbed at his forehead with his fingers.

“I don’t know!” he cried, throwing himself into the chair he'd previously been using to prop up his knee to spank me. “I don’t know what is going on, but it’s bad and I don’t know how to fix it.” He sighed deeply. “I don’t know if Icanfix it. It makes no sense. I’m certain it’s not supposed to happen, but it is happening. And I’m pretty sure it’s never happened before. But it is, now that I’m Santa. And what does that say about me? That I’m obviously not cut out for this job! I’m going to ruin Christmas!”

Holy Holly. My heart sank as I rushed to kneel in front of him, gripping his hand and cupping his face. Did this have to do with what I thought it might? In an instant, I remembered the spanking I’d had to take before I could come live with him at the North Pole. It had been a big one. Because not only did Mrs. Claus need to be a believer, she had to be on the nice list.

Oh, kringle crap. What had I done? It had been a silly thoughtless impulse, designed only to get some attention and give my Daddy a break. Had I somehow ruined everything?

Brushing the worry from my face, I met his eyes with mine and took a deep breath. “Whatever it is, Santa, I’m sure it’s fixable. Maybe we can figure it out together. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s happened.”

His throat constricting as he swallowed, Yule nodded and took several deep breaths. His hand squeezed mine as he said, “Yesterday, I got alerted to a list discrepancy, and when I went in to look, I couldn’t find one. And then I saw. It wasn’t a matter of one kid being on both lists, the way it usually is. I couldn’t figure it out. And then I saw it. Your name. My own wife, my own Mrs. Claus. On the naughty list.”

I gasped, because it seemed like the right thing to do. Also the story was much more dramatic when he told it.

“What did you do?” I asked, fully forgetting for a moment that I knew the answer.

Yule chucked before he answered. “Well, I took the rest of the day off, and I went to see my parents and ask their advice. Then I came home to deal with my naughty wife. Because Mrs. Claus cannot be on the naughty list.” He frowned. “I’m still not quite sure how it happened. It’s not supposed to be able to happen. And it certainly shouldn’t have happened because you didn’t dress warm enough and took a snowmobile without asking. So that was weird, but still, I came home, figured it out and dealt with it.” He frowned. “Your butt was still nice and warm this morning.”

I nodded. It was still achy too. And that was not looking good for me. Because my Daddy may not know what had happened, but I did.

“So, it’s all fine,” I said, still cautiously confused. “You handled it.”

“Well that’s what I thought too. But when I got to the office today, and checked the list, your name was still there.”

“What!” I couldn’t keep the shock off my face and my voice came out in a yell. I’d snuck out at the crack of dawn for the express purpose of taking my name off the list. It should not still be there. And yet, according to my Daddy, it was. And if he couldn’t fix it, Christmas could be ruined. Possibly forever.

I blanched, and Dixie came running up to comfort me. Lifting her into my arms, I cradled her against my chest and nuzzled my face into her soft fur. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Yule shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not supposed to happen. And it should have come off after I spanked you.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Unless there’s something else you did that you’re not telling me? Something more serious than what you told me?”

It was at that moment that I realized that writing my name on the list had been more than just a silly prank. It had been a silly prank that led to lies, more deceit, and goodness knew what else. And I was going to have to come clean, or Christmas would be ruined for good.

Fudgy fudgesticks.

“Um…I…” I stuttered and Dixie licked my face.

“Can you think of anything?” I could tell by the tone of my Santa Daddy’s voice that it was a rhetorical question.

“I… um… okay. So….” I sucked in a sharp breath, my agony surely evident all over my face. “Before I tell you my story, you need to know I was really only trying to help.”

He raised his eyebrows, then grimaced. “There’s a story?” He waited a bit, then answered himself. “Of course there is.”

Looking like he’d rather do anything else than listen, he slowly rose to his feet, and made his way into the living room, never letting go of my hand as he led me behind him. When we got there, he plopped onto the sofa, and pulled me into his lap, facing him. “Okay, little elf. Tell me all about it. How were you trying to help, what were you trying to help with, and what did you do?”