Last updated on April 23, 2025
The Christmas music hums quietly in the background. My excitement for tonight has been a lifetime coming. I would never tell anyone of this dream of mine, but tonight it was coming true. I grab the piping bags, one red, one green, and I make my way into my cozy living room. Draped over my love sac bean bag chair, is a sheet. I set the piping bags on the table and make sure the curtains are drawn. The tree glows bright, casting the warm hue of multi-color lights. Leaving my Hallmark picture perfect living room, I duck into my bedroom and strip out of all my clothes. At the mirror, I tie my hair up with a shiny ribbon.
With a little dance, I giggle at how naughty this is and hurry back into the living room.
Once nestled into my massive chair I pick up the first piping bag and a hand mirror. It takes me several minutes, but I carefully pipe little ribbons around each nipple and my belly button. Then in swirling handwriting I leave the message:
Dear Santa, I have been very naughty. Please punish me.
I draw a large curvy arrow pointing to my vagina. Satisfied with my work, I set the piping bag and mirror aside, then lie back. Everyone knows, Santa doesn’t come until you’re asleep.
The sweet sound of bells ringing rouses me from my sleep.
“Ho, Ho, Ho, what do we have here?” His voice is deep, sending shivers down my spine.
I try to pretend I’m still asleep, but I crack an eye open to see a massive man hovering over me. The smirk on his face tells me I’m busted.
“Just how would like me to punish you, Carolyn?” He purrs as he sets his sack on the floor.
I bite my lip and watch, in awe, as this man undresses from his thick leather coat, vest, suspenders and undershirt. Below the layers of clothing is a broad shoulder and thick man. He stands at six foot five, his chest is covered in ancient looking symbols, and his muscles are only mildly defined. His beard is neatly trimmed, not full and bushy like all the stories say. His soft blue eyes twinkle with starlight and mischief.
“Well, Carolyn? Tell Santa how you want him to punish you.” He eases his boots off and slides his pants off.
Shyness hits me now that the moment is here. I never thought this could ever happen and now that it is, I’m suddenly worried he won’t find me beautiful. I reach for the sheet to cover my frosted body and my skin flushes hot.
“No.” His deep voice rumbles like thunder through me. “Don’t hide your beauty from Santa.”
My cheeks flame as red as the icing begging him to punish me. Then I make the mistake of looking down. In all his massive glory, his cock stands hard before me.
“Eyes up, sweetheart,” he coos “Hands above your head. If you lower them, I will put you on the naughty list and stop. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Santa,” I murmur. Slowly, I raise my hands above my head, clasping my fingers together.
He drops to his knees and his massive hands rest on my hips, roughly pulling me forward as he parts my knees.
I yelp.
He licks his lips as he takes in my handy work. “You know, I love sweet treats. I bet you taste just like cookies.” His breath is warm against my thigh as he kisses it.
My legs quiver as I struggle to not close them, vulnerable and exposed to this man I have dreamed about claiming me all of my adult life.
He bites my thigh and groans like he has tasted the most divine food. “You’re even sweeter than I thought. Now be a good girl and open up for Santa.” He lightly spanks my pussy.
As soon as my legs part he buries his face between my thighs and I gasp.
His tongue probes between my folders and trails all the way to my hole, letting his nose press firmly against me as laps like a starving man at a buffet.
“Oh, Santa,” I moan, gyrating my hips in offering.
He slides his hands along my legs, guiding them up and over his shoulders as he paws my ass and plunges his tongue into me, lifting me off the bean bag to dine easily.
My skin burns with desire as my muscles tense. Each flick of his tongue sends tingles up my core and blossoming out until all I want to feel is tongue. I lose control of myself, thrusting my hips up and trembling against him.
His shoulders shake as he rumbles a laugh that comes out as a husky ho ho ho before he moves up my body. His warm tongue follows my handiwork, smearing the icing until I feel his hard cock brushing against my skin. The smooth head is a sharp contrast to his thick, calloused fingers pawing along my soft skin. He draws a nipple into his mouth and sucks hard, rolling it between his teeth. “You are a naughty girl,” he growls. “You still haven’t said how I should punish you.” His breath is hot as if fans over my other nipple.
“Fuck me, Santa. Hard.” I gasp.
A wicked grin dances across his face. “I don’t think that’s punishment.” He gently rocks his hips, letting his smooth head brush against my sensitive flesh, only pressing enough to part and smear my slick along my slit.
“Please Santa,” I beg. Shamelessly, I rock my hips up to him, but with my legs draped over his shoulders, I’m held helpless beneath him.
“Do you think having Santa’s cock inside you is punishment?” He licks more icing from my skin.
“No,” I whimper and squirm, trying to entice him to bury himself in me.
“Then tell Santa how you want to be punished for being such a naughty girl.” He reaches down and grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, only allowing the head to press into me.
I never imagined Santa to be so well hung, and just the head feels like he’s splitting me wide open.
He leans up and nips my thigh just above my knee before he lifts my leg higher, until he can turn me without removing his head.
I roll over like a bitch in heat, and my knees touch the floor. Eagerly, I push my ass back to him, trying to coax his cock deeper.
“No.” He slaps my ass hard enough it echoes in the room and I cry out. “Naughty girls do not get to ride Santa’s cock.” He slaps my ass again before his rough fingers grab the supple, soft skin and squeezes.
I swear my ass has a direct line to my clit, making it throb harder under his punishment.
“Please Santa, may I have another,” I whimper.