Page 94 of Santa Daddies

Though it didn’t take me more than five minutes to take out the trash, I puttered around the kitchen, giving Marcie time to prepare for tonight’s activities. Once I had the coffee maker prepped, I transferred a couple of steaks from the freezer to thaw in the refrigerator for tomorrow’s dinner. I’d been serious about the kitchen and living room being cleaned, since none of us ever left a mess for anyone hosting our group to have to deal with. Instead, I spent a few minutes plucking rumpled napkins that had served as flowers from vases and tossing them into the washer.

The poinsettias turned out to be silk, so I stuck them into the empty vases. I even channeled my creative side and rearranged all the vases into a cluster in the center of the table rather than a long line down the middle. Ready to declare the room straightened, I caught sight of the small silver mallet Marcie had used to demonstrate her peppermint pig story. My little storyteller was about to discover that some of the best toys were found in items that were originally meant for a totally different purpose. I tucked the mallet into my pocket and decided she’dhad long enough to find the scrap of paper that served as tonight’s list, which I’d written before I’d even begun cooking. Once she’d been involved with her friends, I’d ducked into the bedroom to leave it for her. I hadn’t wanted to leave it just lying on the bed in case one of her Little friends happened to duck into the room for whatever reason. Neither had I wanted to hide it in a place that would take her too long to find. At the sight of Lord Pigsley lying on her pillow, I’d known exactly where to place the slip. Adjusting the stuffy so he was sitting on his rump, I crossed his front legs and laid the paper across his hooves. The additional items I’d chosen for this evening were tucked beneath her pillow with just a tiny bit visible. It had seemed completely apropos that the very first item on my Santa Daddy list be presented by a porky little accomplice.?

As I left the dining room, I felt my cock already stiffening at what I expected to find. Hell, even if she’d totally missed the clue, I was sure I’d be hard anyway just knowing she was in the bedroom waiting for me. Since I hadn’t heard any calls demanding a hint, I was pretty sure she’d not only found the paper but had also managed to decipher each stanza of the poem I’d penned.

Tonight will begin this little game for two,

As you follow the leads Santa Daddy has left for you.

With a heart full of love, my little elf will offer to him,

Her beautiful body, wrapped only in bare, silken skin.

No need of blouse, jeans, sneakers or socks covering ten little toes,

Drape yourself only with these four pretty bows.

You need to choose where, with exact precision,

So let today’s events guide your decision.

Climb onto the bed, right in the center if you please,

Where you will await your fate on hands and knees.

Cease all attempts to garner what will come when Santa arrives,

For tonight’s only task shall be to writhe, wiggle, plead, and cry.

When you hear the call of your jolliest friend,

Then, little elf, you’ll know it’s time to begin.

“Ho-ho-ho, Santa’s here,” I bellowed with a grin as I walked down the hallway, flipping off lights as I went until I finally reached the door to our bedroom which was slightly ajar.

As I pushed the door open, my breath caught in my throat at the sight of my love bathed in the flickering light of the flames dancing in the fireplace across the room. It didn’t matter how often I’d seen Marcie, didn’t make a whit of difference that I knew every inch of her body probably far better than I even knew my own, the sight of her had my heart skip a beat. She was always a very attractive woman, but when she allowed herself to sink deep within her need to submit, she was absolutely stunning. Add in the fact that this gorgeous woman was notonly my submissive, but my Little, and that amped up the pure pleasure of being her chosen Dom and her Daddy by a factor of about a gazillion.

She’d not only deciphered the poem, following every instruction to the letter, she’d considered things that had escaped me. Perched on her hands and knees, each ankle and both wrists were adorned with a big red velvet bow. Not a single line or curve of her bare skin was marred by a stray auburncurl. She’d piledher hairup in a bun on top of her head. I knew from experience that a gentle tug of that ebony sandalwood chopstick would release the tresses to fall like flames to lick her skin. But that could wait.

“Such a beautiful present for Santa,” I said as I strolled casually toward the bed.

Her eyes were shining as she lifted her head to follow my movements, knowing not to speak unless asked a question or given permission. Marcie’s choice to be a Little was balanced with her desire to be a submissive. Some might believe the one excluded the other, but they’d be wrong. My love needed the gentleness and freedom to express the boundless joy inside of her through play. She loved hugging her stuffy fiercely but also loved the ropes that I’d use to bind her hands to immobilize them. Marcie could spend an afternoon coloring or attending a tea party dressed in a frilly dress, stiff petticoats, and shiny black Mary Janes, but that in no way kept her from spending an evening bound to a St. Andrew’s cross and having her naked body flogged until it was glowing as red as the soles of the six-inch stilettos I loved to see her wearing. The fact she shifted between one world and the other made her both easy and complex, caused her to be simple to read and yet intriguing to decipher.

In other words, she was my everything, my entire world.

As I began to undress, my eyes remained on her. When I unbuckled my belt, a slight tremor ran from her head to her toes. As I slowly unzipped my fly, the tip of her tongue came out to swipe along her bottom lip even as I saw a pearly drop of her arousal began to slip down her thigh. Seemed my Little subbie had spent her time not fretting, but in barely contained anticipation of what was to come. I took my time lowering my pants, waiting for the soft gasp as my cock sprang free to stand out proudly from my body, letting Marcie know, I too was looking forward to our play.

Once I was as naked as she, I climbed onto the bed to join her. It was only then that I noticed she’d moved Lord Pigsley from his place of honor. He was now facing away from the bed and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a tiny sleep mask pulled over his eyes. I bit back the chuckle. My girl might be as at home in her nakedness as I, but the Little in her still peeked out when not wanting her stuffy to witness her in what she called Big-girl games.

I ran my fingertips down her back from the nape of her neck to the cleft of her ass but didn’t stop there. With a smile at the slight tensing of her buttocks, I slipped my finger between her cheeks, continuing the journey until I arrived at the tightly puckered opening to her ass.

“Naughty girls tense,” I scolded softly. “Are you a naughty girl, Marcie?”

“No, Santa Daddy,” she said, instantly relaxing her muscles to confirm her answer.

“I didn’t think so,” I said, drawing lazy circles around the wrinkled rim, watching goosebumps by the thousands pop out on her body. Another circuit and then I relented and continued my exploration. “You may not be naughty, but you are very, very wet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”