Don’t upset Santa Claus!
By Jo Green
It was 1.00 am on Christmas morning, 1897.
All was quiet all around and deep snow lay on the ground.
Santa crept silent around his route, dropping small gifts and oranges off for all the good children and adults. Everyone was asleep in all the houses. Then in one house, he heard a noise from behind the sofa.
“Come out. I can hear you! You should be asleep, not hiding and waiting for Santa to come. That gets you on Santa’s naughty list for sure. No gifts for you this year,” said Santa.
Quiet sobbing began as a figure rose from behind the sofa. Santa had expected a child, but instead a young woman, surely 18 or 19 years of age, stood with tears in her eyes, which struck at Santa’s heart strings.
“I am sorry, Santa. Every year I have wanted to see you and every year I have been put to bed. This year mummy and daddy are not here, so I decided to wait for you like a small child.” She did not say why her parents were not there. “Please don’t be cross, Santa. I meant no harm,” she sobbed.
“I am sorry, my dear, but once you are on the naughty list, there are only two ways off it. You have to be really good next year, and if you are you will get a visit and a present from Santa as you have every year,” Santa patiently explained.
“I’m sorry, Santa. I will be very good, but what about this year?” she asked, still crying.
“Those on the naughty list just receive a piece of coal,” he told her.
“But you said there were two ways, Santa. What is the second, please Santa?” she pleaded.
“That is reserved only for the very naughtiest of girls and boys, which you are not,” he said kindly.
Then, without warning, she tugged his beard and kicked his shin.
“Am I naughty enough now, Santa?” she asked, eyes glistening in the weak light from the fire.
“Oh, indeed you are, young lady! Indeed, you are!” said Santa.
The next few seconds were a blur of action. Firstly, Santa slipped off his thick gloves whilst at the same time he sat down on a stool in front of the dying fire. He then took a firm yet gentle grip on the girl’s arm and pulled the unsuspecting young lady towards himself and down across his ample lap. Holding her still with his strong left arm, Santa then proceeded to bounce his right hand repeatedly off the poor girl’s bottom which was covered by her long nightgown with nothing beneath it.
Her bottom stung from the first spank, his large powerful hands applying great force accurately aimed at the young woman’s defenceless bottom. Again, the hand spanked, spanked and spanked again. The sound, deadened by the thick winter curtains to the side of the fireplace, still demonstrated the firmness of the spanks. She howled in pain now and sobbed ceaselessly, until Santa was satisfied the young woman had been spanked enough for her naughtiness.
Santa rested his hand on her burning bottom and helped her to her feet. Hopping about and rubbing herself as though her very life depended on it, she soon calmed down and the tears dried up.
“There, that is what happens to the naughtiest of girls and boys at Christmas time. However, you have cleared your slate and can now be counted on my good list,” Santa said, smiling as she continued to hold her flaming bottom. “Now, I must go, but before I do, this is for you,” he said, handing her a large present wrapped in bright paper and tied up with a bow, together with an orange. “Next year, be asleep when I call or I will have to spank you again, young lady. Do you promise me?” Santa asked.
Smiling back at him, she said, “Yes Santa, I promise,” and with that Santa disappeared in a swirl of action.
She smiled warmly and uncrossed her fingers which she had hidden from view behind her back. She was looking forward to next Christmas morning already.