Naughty or Nice?

8. Kendall

CHAPTER 8

Kendall

Snow is falling outside the bedroom room as I emerge from the bathroom, clouds of steam swirling around me. I toss the towel onto the bed in nothing more than the silky floral robe I’ve shrugged on.

In a few hours, it’ll be Christmas, and the snow outside will reach five inches.

Propping my leg up on the ottoman by the bed, I grab my jar of body butter and start rubbing the coconut-scented cream into my skin.

The room’s low-lit, with the twinkling Christmas bulbs and flames from the fireplace as the main sources of light.

I’ve spent the day envisioning what tonight would be like. Fantasies have played out inside my head. Now that it’s the moment I’ve been waiting for, I’m not sure how to feel.

The anticipation’s almost too much.

I’m breathless and jittery even as I moisturize; my hands smoothing the body butter onto my legs and thighs.

Any minute, the night’s officially about to begin.

It’s surreal that Nate and I have only been broken up for forty-eight hours yet I’m seeing our relationship more clearly than I ever have before. I’m still brokenhearted by the situation—and a part of me still loves him—but I’m also realizing I loved the idea of marriage and kids more than I did Nate as a person.

He was simply the avatar I was using to pursue my happy ending.

Tonight I’m craving something different.

I’ve always been the nice girl. The kind woman. But this Christmas, for once I want to be a little naughty.

It’s time I explore new kinds of relationships and experiences.

Only one man comes to mind when I think about what that would be like.

I’ve moved onto rubbing body butter up and down my arms when there’s a loud thud from downstairs.

My hands still and my head snaps up. I listen carefully for more of the sound, silently wondering if I heard what I think I did. Knotting the ribbon that holds my robe together, I abandon the bedroom to go downstairs and check out the noise.

I reach the bottom stair, realizing the loud noise wasn’t a fluke—someone else is in the house.

Shock strangles the air from my lungs. I can only remain where I am, wide-eyed and stunned as I listen to the rustling coming from the other room. Cotton fills my throat, making it difficult to choke out any words.

“Wh-who’s there?” I ask. Then I take the last step off the stairs and pad toward the arched doorway leading into the living room. “I’ll… I’ll call the cops.”

I stop in front of the doorway and let out a gasping breath.

The flames roar in the fireplace, casting a fire-lit shadow against the wall of the man who’s broken into the house.

None other than Santa Claus himself.

But this is no ordinary Santa Claus.

He’s large, but not in the traditional way St. Nick is—his size comes in the form of muscles and brawn. He’s wearing a rich, red velvet suit that vaguely resembles Santa’s, except his coat is a fur-lined vest that reveals his rippling bare chest. The pants emphasize how massive and defined his legs and thighs are, while his shiny black combat boots only add to the sexy, authoritarian feel of him.

Over his shoulder rests a giant bag of what I’m assuming are presents. He holds onto it with one gloved hand.

His eyes twinkle meeting mine as I stop in the doorway, his thick beard framing his face while a Santa hat sits perched on his white head of hair.

I’d laugh if not for the formidable expression clenched onto his face.

This Santa means business.

St. Nick has arrived, and he’s not here for anyone on his nice list.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, blinking away my shock. “Get out right now or I’ll… stay away from me!”

My screams of protest go ignored.

In three large strides, St. Nick closes the gap between us. He drops the bag of presents at our feet and clamps his long fingers around both of my wrists. I’m yanked toward him ’til I’m pressed up against his chiseled chest, peering up into his stony face.

Drinking in his twinkling hazel eyes.

“I’m here doing what I always do on Christmas Eve,” he grunts. “Delivering presents to all the good little girls and boys. And punishments to those on the naughty list.”

My skin warms, my excitement reaching new heights. “I’ve behaved myself all year.”

“Have you? That’s not what I’ve heard. I’ve heard you’ve been bad. You’ve been a naughty little whore, fucking your ex-boyfriend’s father.”

“I can explain,” I quickly say. “He came onto— EEEP !”

A squeal leaves me as St. Nick rips me off my feet and tosses me over one broad shoulder like I’m the bag of toys he’s brought. The next thing I know, I’m hanging upside down over his back as he picks up the bag of gifts and carries us both upstairs like nothing.

My ass is peeking out from my robe. His arm tightens about my bare thighs as I kick and thrash against him.

It’s no use.

He’s too strong, too powerful.

He hauls me upstairs, turning down the hall into the bedroom. The same low-lit, ambient room I’d been innocently moisturizing in minutes ago. I’m flung onto the bed where I land with a hard bounce, my robe becoming partially untied.

Propping myself up on my elbows, strands of hair strewn across my face, I peer over at him and wait on his next move.

I’m no longer acting. I’ve become the part I’m playing, a not-so-innocent woman startled by the sexy Santa intruder in her home, who’s arrived to ravage her for being a little naughty this holiday season.

“Take whatever you want,” I murmur. “Just please don’t hurt me.”

“No talking,” he snaps. “Bad girls don’t get to talk. They just get punished.”

I make a split second decision. As he stands over the bed and I look up at his harsh expression, I decide I might as well give him hell.

Make him work for these punishments he’s about to inflict.

I leap off the bed, fast and agile like a cat, and scramble toward the door. St. Nick is on me at once. While I’m fast, I’m no match for his significantly longer strides. As I streak past him, he extends his arm and hooks it around my waist. I’m reeled backward before I can ever make a real escape.

A deep, angry growl rumbles out of him as he slams me down on the bed and pins my arms on either side of my head.

“Just where do you think you’re going, darling?” he asks, grinning darkly. “You really want to piss off St. Nick when you’re already in trouble?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” I say with a defiant glare.

He chuckles. “That’s exactly why you need to be punished. So you can learn your lesson.”

He holds me down as he reaches for the large sack he’s brought with him. Turning it over, various sex toys and devices spill out onto the floor.

Anything you can think of.

Vibrators. Anal plugs. Gags. Floggers. Nipple clamps and cock rings. All kinds of different binds.

I struggle even harder against him, refusing to give in so easily, despite the fact that I’m trapped.

“You want to be feisty, seems like you need to be tied down.”

“No!” I scream. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

But I’m ignored.

St. Nick reaches for some silk binds that he easily knots around my wrists. I’m flipped over onto my stomach as he wraps the silk ribbons around two of the bed posts. I’ve effectively been rendered helpless, laying bent over the bed. Stomach flush on the duvet, my legs drape over the sides, my feet grazing the hardwood flooring.

The robe has ridden all the way up, revealing my bare ass.

Perfect for St. Nick. Not so perfect for me.

He grunts at the setup he’s arranged and I’ve found myself in.

“Look at that plump ass,” he says in his gritty voice. “I just want to take a bite out of it, it looks so fucking good. But first I’ve got to make it feel a little pain before I can make it feel so good.”

I’m squirming as he grabs the next device he intends on using.

A gag.

But not just any gag—it’s some kind of stainless steel contraption that he slides past my lips, spreading my cheeks and propping my mouth open. The other half goes around my head as he fastens it in place.

“I like the look of that pretty mouth when it’s propped open for my use,” he says with a taunting wink.

I’ve effectively been silenced, drool pooling in the floor of my mouth.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he says, petting my hair. “I’m going to get plenty of use of it tonight.”

I’m left lying stomach down on the bed as he kneels in front of me and his hands go to unfasten his belt.

He moves slow on purpose, undoing the buckle and gradually sliding the strip of leather out of the loops of his pants.

My eyes widen watching, flicking between what his hands are doing with his belt and the punishing expression on his sexy, mature face. He means business as the belt slides free and he folds it in half in his large palms, ensuring he covers the metal buckle.

“I can’t decide if I want to make this plump ass of yours red first or if I want you to suck my cock first,” he muses aloud, pulling the strip of leather taut between each hand.

Tiny butterflies flutter inside my stomach. But I still don’t let him know he’s fazed me. I refuse to show any fear.

I squirm in place, producing the garbled sounds I’m capable of with my mouth gaped so wide.

It sounds like gibberish.

But what I really mean is: I’m not afraid of you.

St. Nick grins. “We’ll see if you’ll be so tough when you’ve got my cock sliding down your throat and your ass is on fire.”

He pulls down the zipper of his pants.

His girthy dick makes its first appearance, flopping out from the opening of his red velvet pants.

I’d lick my lips, but the stainless steel gag jammed inside my mouth makes it impossible. My cheeks are already starting to ache. The spittle pooling at the bottom of my mouth feels like it might start dribbling over soon.

But St. Nick seems to be taking note of all these details, and they only make him more excited.

He strokes his dick with one hand, the leather belt in the other, and peers down at me with his familiar twinkling gaze.

“You remember the signal if you need to stop, darling?”

Since I can’t answer him, I nod my head and tug my right hand against the restraint ’til it’s tapping at his thigh. He’s left enough slack for that purpose alone.

He strokes my hair. “Good girl. Now open up.”

It’s said tauntingly as he slides his dick past my wet, wide-open lips. He groans the deeper he goes into my mouth, cocooned by its wet warmth. I manage to flick my tongue against the side of his girth, rubbing the flat side against the pulsing vein that I find.

He’s so sensitive, so erect that his breaths deepen. He slips in and out of my wide-open mouth a couple times, soaking his dick in the spit that’s gathered ’til it gleams with it.

’Til some finally leaks over and dribbles down my chin.

I blink up at him and watch the pleasure unfold on his square features. He looks like he’s in ecstasy as he pushes in and out of my mouth.

His pleasure makes me feel pleasure.

My pussy throbs in needy desire, remembering what it feels like to have him deep inside me.

We slip into a rhythm where St. Nick uses my mouth and I writhe helplessly against the silky restraints, letting him do as he pleases. I’m turned on by how he grips my hair and forces himself toward the back of my throat.

I gag against the thick intrusion, tears misting my eyes.

The muscles in my throat fight against him, contracting in resistance. The sensation feels so good on his dick, his groans deepen. He pushes his dick even further, making me sputter around his length.

“Mmmph… mmmph…. mmmph!”

“Naughty girls don’t get to talk,” he growls, pumping his hips against my mouth. “They get throat fucked, don’t they, darling?”

“Mmmm!”

He picks up the pace, slipping in and out of my mouth ’til he really is fucking me. His fingers have gathered a fistful of my hair that he uses to hold down my head and make me choke on his thick dick.

Tears blind my vision as I swipe my tongue and try to keep up. My mouth’s aching from being propped open and my arms tremble against the silk binds.

St. Nick fucks my mouth and tells me how good I look like this. Tied to the bed as he uses my mouth and my body jerks along with the movements of his thrusts.

“We’re just getting started, darling. You haven’t even been punished yet.”

“OOWWW!”

A sharp, immediate pain erupts across my ass as he finally brings down the leather belt. It’s folded in half as he thwacks it over my ass in a quick lash.

My hips twist side to side at the harsh blow. My teeth accidentally graze against his dick.

I’m immediately reprimanded. He growls, yanking my head back and cracking the leather belt over my ass a second time. The leather collides with my ass in another stinging burst of pain that makes my entire body jerk.

“No teeth, darling,” he scolds. “You’ll just have to figure out how to suck my cock and be spanked at the same time, won’t you?”

“YESSS!” my muffled answer comes with the third whip of his belt.

The looped end cracks down and sends a stinging current through me. He pushes deeper into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat ’til I’m gagging on him, tears pouring down my face.

I’ve never been more helpless, restrained and teary-eyed. My bare ass juts out as it’s striped red, and my pussy clenches on air, completely untouched. His dick’s stuffed down my throat, his hips relentless as he pumps in and out of my mouth.

“Let this be a lesson,” he grunts. “Good girls don’t fuck their ex’s father, do they?”

“NO!”

The taut leather collides with my soft, round ass.

The pain sears my skin. A stinging hot burn that remains for seconds to come. I pull on the restraints and focus on pleasuring his dick. I suck on the head when he drags his hips back, flicking my tongue over the round, bulbous tip.

My lungs draw desperate breaths, so feverish I don’t even feel like myself.

St. Nick shows no mercy.

The looped belt lashes down ten, fifteen, twenty times.

I’m on fire by the time he slides his dick deep and then pulls out to spill his cum over my face. The thick white substance streaks across my parted lips, my cheeks, my nose and brow. He grips me by the hair and rubs his dick against my lips and the rest of my face ’til I’m gleaming with his cum, staring up at him with a pussy that’s throbbing like crazy.

“Look at my dirty, naughty girl,” he says, grinning. “Your pretty face is covered in my cum like it should be. And look at this ass.”

He shifts on the bed until he’s behind me. His heavy hands fill up with my sore, round ass cheeks as he gropes me and the stinging pain returns.

“Your beautiful brown skin is red, darling,” he says. “Have you learned your lesson?”

I’m trying to catch my breath as I close my eyes and feel the wet cum quickly drying on my face.

“Yes… or no?” He slaps my ass with the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

I haven’t come yet. He hasn’t fucked me yet. Not like I want him to.

It’s not over until he finishes every part of my fantasy.

I shake my head to the side and try my best to speak with the gag still inserted in my mouth. “NO!”

“That’s what I thought. But how about we take this gag off? I want to hear your beautiful voice.”

He unbuckles the straps fastening the gag to my head. The steel contraption slips out of my mouth, and I immediately stretch it open on my own and then clamp it shut.

“You’re dripping wet, darling,” he says, fondling my pussy. His fingers tickle my slick folds, finding the bundle of nerves that’s my clit. “You’re such a dirty bad girl, aren’t you? Getting wet as you sucked off my cock and I punished you with my belt. You loved every fucking moment, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, licking at my lips.

I can still taste St. Nick. The tang of him lingers on my lips and tongue.

“Good news for you is I want to fuck this little hungry pussy. I’m going to fill you up with more cum and make this ass even redder than it already is.”

I moan as I feel him rub his dick against my dripping pussy. Grinding back my hips, aware how wanton I must come across. The restraints keep me in place no matter how desperate I become.

“That feel good?”

“Mmmm… yes… so good,” I mutter.

He’s pushed his head inside me, dragging his nails across the round curve of my ass. Right over my sensitive, throbbing flesh that was whipped only minutes ago.

Yet, somehow, the stinging pain has begun to feel as good as his dick partially inside me.

All of it unravels me. Makes my body shake as I nibble on my bottom lip and moan along.

Nate never tried to bring my fantasies to life. He never wanted to explore the kinkier side of what I desired.

His father being the exact opposite boggles my mind.

It makes me realize that I’ve been with the wrong man from the start.

St. Nick is painstakingly slow slotting in and out of me. He started with the head, then pushes a couple more inches inside, slicking himself with my arousal.

My thighs quake while my elbows lock, the rest of me feeling fatigued by anticipation. The craving that rolls through me is hot and intense.

Desire to feel him in whatever way I can.

He groans as my pussy grips at him. “Look at how this tight fucking pussy wraps around me. So fucking greedy aren’t you, my dirty little whore?”

“Yes,” I whisper back. “Please fuck me. Please make me come.”

“So damn polite. How can I resist?”

He wraps my hair around his fist and slides his dick in deep. The heat already engulfing me only grows hotter as I push back against him and clutch at the restraints for balance. If not, I’d face plant straight into the bed.

He makes me weak. He makes me delirious with pleasure.

Even before the first stroke.

My pussy’s pulsing around him as he slides all the way out, then drives himself all the way in. His fat girth stretches me just to fit him inside. I’m immediately full, literally stuffed with St. Nick’s dick.

My eyes roll to the ceiling, and I let out a breathy moan.

Pleasure wells up inside me like pressure that’s building.

When he starts moving, it’s over. I lose my last grip of reality. St. Nick fists my hair and drags back his hips only to slam forward and fill me up. He grunts as he takes me, fucking me hard and deep.

I arch my back, forced to remain upright by the silk ribbons tied around my wrists. Air puffs out of me trying to keep up with him. It’s a lost cause as the Christmas lights in the room blur and the intense sensations I’m feeling ripple through me.

I’m left to moan and shake and thrash.

St. Nick lets go of my hair and reaches under me to torture my clit some more. The bundle of nerves pulses against his fingertips as he rubs it in furious circles.

“My naughty whore was born to take my cock,” he growls, bottoming out inside me.

I scream and my spine vibrates from the pleasure that shoots through me. I’m so close, I can practically feel my orgasm already.

But St. Nick won’t stop ’til he’s satisfied. ’Til he feels I’m sufficiently punished and the fantasy has reached its end.

He picks up the folded belt and cracks it over my ass as he pumps into me.

My loudest cry yet leaves me. The combination of his dick deep inside me and the burning sting of leather is almost too much.

It is too much as he brings the belt down a second time.

Right over my swollen, reddened, sensitive brown flesh.

My body gives its hardest yank against my restraints. My pussy clenches tighter around him. He rumbles out a growl and smoothly strokes himself in and out of me. His movements come fast and aggressively, yet with a smooth rhythm that’s addictive.

That feels so impossibly good when he hits the right spot.

And he almost always does—St. Nick fucks my pussy like he owns it.

And he does—in this moment, I’m his naughty little whore who wants every deep stroke, every lash of his belt, and every dirty word he has.

The sting explodes across my backside as the belt comes down a few more times before he tosses it aside altogether.

He grips my hips and fucks into me ’til a raspy cry pours out of me and I’m convulsing against the silky binds.

The pleasure is deafening. It’s explosive, blowing through me like a bomb that’s detonated. For seconds to come, I’ve blacked out, lost in a sea of hot pulsing waves.

I come to just as St. Nick’s coming. He pulls out of me in enough time to shoot his release on my lower back and ass, painting my brown skin in creamy streaks.

We’re both still buzzing with pleasure. He’s dripping with sweat as he reaches over me to undo the binds and then drags me toward him, planting a deep kiss on my lips. It’s only as the kiss ends that I’m lucid enough to notice the Santa hat’s still perched on his head.

A delirious little laugh leaves me. “Damn… that was…”

“Yes, darling?” He grins.

“The best ever,” I manage before I’m melting in his arms and he’s picking me up off the bed for cleanup and aftercare.