Page 110 of Santa Daddies
It was my turn to roll my eyes without the least bit of worry he’d correct me as it was just far too ludicrous not to earn a dramatic roll. Instead of a pop to my bare butt, he tilted the marshmallow, and I saw the someone indeed had sprinkled the top of the white surface with the faintest shavings of peppermint candy. We sipped and shared and, yes, dripped a bit, until thedelicious beverage was no more. Once he set the mug aside, he grinned and lifted me off his lap to lay me down on the bed. The licks he made this time were slow and languid and not between my legs, but over the mounds of my breasts, his tongue flicking over my nipples and then he slid down my body and his tongue once again found my naval.
I grinned and reached to place my palm against his cheek. “So, what is the verdict, Santa Daddy? Do I taste like a candy cane?”
“Like I proposed, you are the one who tastes like peppermint, but not just any run-of-the-mill peppermint. No, babygirl, your flavor was specially created for the enjoyment of only one and I’ll be forever grateful that I am that one.”
“As am I, Santa Daddy, as am I.”
Chapter Ten
Austin
“Babygirl, if you don’t stop and take a deep breath—make that more like a dozen—and calm down you’re either going to have a stroke or earn yourself a very hot bottom.”
Marcie looked at me as if I’d said something so far out of her scope of reality that she couldn’t comprehend what I was saying. And for my Little girl, that wasn’t exactly a good thing.
I was pretty sure I was disappointing not every Dominant who’d ever spoken to their submissive. On the flip side, I believed every Daddy Dom who’d ever attempted to grant his Little some grace by cutting off a tantrum before it had a chance to pick up too much speed to stop understood my effort.
“Calm down? How can you expectmeto calm down? The better question is why aren’t you in as frickin’ a frenzy as I am? Have you any idea how awful it will be if everything we’ve done isn’t enough? What if nobody even shows up to the party? Or even worse, what if everyone shows up but nobody buys a single pig? Did you ever considerthat,Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected?”
Okay, so I was the one who took those calming deep breaths, not an entire dozen but enough to speak as soothinglyas possible. “Marcie, honey, you’re freaking out for no reason. And you can’t claim we haven’t sold a single pig. We’ve been consistently selling them since the first poster went up advertising there wasgoingto be a sale. I bet there are at least a hundred pre-sold pigs just waiting to be picked up and?—”
“Ahundred!Ameaslyhundred?” She stopped pacing to turn and stare at me, her eyes huge and frankly, rather wild looking. “You’re telling me that you actuallybelievethat a measly hundred isgood? Well excuse me, but considering that means there are nine thousand, nine hundred pigs that no one wants, I think you need to take a refresher course or are you so s?—”
Then again, not only was I wasbotha Dominant and a Daddy, for this month at least I was Santa Daddy and if there was one thing the jolly old head elf had definitely made no qualms about was the fact that onlygoodgirls and boys got rewarded with presents and stockings full of candy and toys. As fornaughtyones, he had a totally different pair of items that had become famously known as well. Since I didn’t have any coal readily available, I was going to have to go with option number two.
It took but a moment to sweep Marcie off her feet and sling her over my shoulder. Her huff as her tummy slammed into my shoulder, most likely was the only thing that would keep the bar of soap in the bathroom out of her mouth. My granted grace had let the “frickin’” slip by and her present position had cut off that last word before she’d had time to complete it. As I strode out the patio door and into our backyard, she unfortunately had time to suck in enough breath to continue.
“Put me down! We don’t have time for this shit!”
So much for grace.
“We’re making time,” I growled, my patience was getting dangerously close to evaporating.
“Daddy! I’m serious! We’ve got to go! We’re going to besolate!”
That was easier to ignore considering that I knew exactly where we were going. And while it definitely wasn’t into the car and on to the club, our destination was a hell of a lot closer. “Not late, in fact, we’re here.”
“What?”
I felt her hands planting on my back as she used them to brace herself enough to push up in order to see. If her view wasn’t quite as steady as she’d like, that was just too bad. Selecting and breaking a tool essential for playing Santa took some effort.
“No! Daddy, no! I-I mean, okay, I-I’ll calm down.”
“Too little and way too late?—”
“But listen!”
Poor little elf. If she believed dragging in huge, noisy lungfuls of air only to practically vomit them back out in order to draw another counted as a calming exercise, she was poorly informed.
“See? I took twelve breaths and now I’m all good!”
“Babygirl, you are so far from all good, I can’t even see the “D” on the end of the word. But don’t you fret. By the time Santa Daddy is through, you’re going to be nice and calm and ready to face the world again like my sweet Christmas elf.”
“But you’re going to spank me!”
I could have pointed out that those who’d reached a level of serenity didn’t screech but decided it would be far more effective to correct her statement. “Not at all, Marcie. Daddy isn’t going to spank you.”
“What? You’re-you’re not? Oh, thank?—”
