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Just a silly one, inspired by a Xmas story contest....and maybe some holiday fantasies. As always, feedback is both welcome and appreciated.

Season's Heatings

by Alyx

Perhaps it was her name, but Noelle just loved the Christmas season. Everything about it appealed to her, from the crisp white snow that blanketed the yard, to Christmas carols that blared all day on the radio. Paige would've said it was because her inner child never grew up, but that was not the reason she was standing here now, shivering a little in her pajamas while her lover dozed soundly upstairs. It was Christmas Eve and she was too excited to sleep. How could anyone stand to be sleeping at this time, when the clock was inching its way toward midnight?

Well, perhaps Paige's slumber had something to do with the extra glass of Christmas brandy she'd pressed on her, Noelle reflected a little guiltily. She knew Paige would take a dim view of her desire to sneak look at the tree and all the Christmas decorations, and so she'd encouraged an amount of alcohol which she knew would have Paige out like a light.

Noelle crept further along the hall, reluctant to turn on the light as she felt her way toward the living room. The shadows were a bit unnerving, and she froze suddenly when her foot caused an old board beneath her to creak loudly. She waited. There was no other sound besides the ticking of the kitchen clock, and breathing easier, she made her way to the living room without further incident.

It was brighter and warmer here, the embers in the fireplace still glowing with an intense heat that would last till morning. She paused in the middle of the room to take in the stockings on the mantle – a big blue one for Paige, a red one for her, and a smaller yellow one for Miss Kitty, to match the feline's eyes. Fat, red Christmas candles weighted each one down along the edge of the mantle, their soles drooping over like hanging laundry. It was a bit untraditional, but Paige had refused to allow her to hang them properly.

"You are not putting holes in our carved lindenwood mantle," she'd said sternly.

"I was just going to put a tack through them, not drill a tunnel," Noelle had complained. But there was no budging her, despite the fact that Noelle had called her a Scrooge who was lacking in Christmas spirit.

Still, to be fair, Paige was awfully good about giving in to Noelle's endless Christmas preparations. She'd gone along with visiting three different tree lots to find the perfect specimen, and hadn't said a word when they'd ended up buying it from the first lot and spending a day's salary to get it. Noelle gazed up at its splendor now, seven feet of lush Noble fir, the dark green needles almost inky black in the firelight. She took a deep breath and smiled in satisfaction – there was nothing like the smell of a Christmas tree.

Presents were tucked beneath the tree, foil-wrapped and brightly-bowed, just waiting for Christmas morning. Noelle nudged one or two with her foot and sighed. The suspense was killing her, but Paige would do worse if she gave into temptation. She glanced over at the small table near the easy chair....for once it looked like Paige had resisted the temptation to sample "Santa's" cookies. Dusted with colored sugar and cut into shapes of stars and Christmas trees, they lay on a plate next to a tall glass of milk. Noelle walked over and picked one up, issuing an "Mmmm" as she bit into it....this recipe was definitely a keeper.

"Those cookies weren't meant for you, were they?"

Noelle jumped, hand flying to her mouth to cover the muffled screech that would've emerged, along with crumbs from the cookie she'd not yet swallowed. She turned around guiltily, certain that Paige must've awoken after all and caught her sneaking. But the figure that stood facing her not ten feet away, though definitely feminine in form, was not that of her partner Paige. Noelle opened her mouth to let loose with a real scream, but the night visitor shook her head and lifted a finger to her lips.

"Shhh, don't worry. You're not in danger." The voice was low and sweet, and somehow reassuring despite the fact that having a stranger appear soundlessly in one's living room in the dead of night was normally an alarming situation. The woman took two steps closer, and by the light of the glowing embers Noelle could she that she was dressed in red velvet. In a Santa's costume, of all things.

"Who the hell are you?" Noelle said, growing angry now that her fright had passed. "If this is a joke of Paige's, it's not funny!"

"It's not a joke," the stranger assured her with a smile. "And who do you think would be visiting at this time of night, at this time of year?"

"Oh please," Noelle said disdainfully. "Are you a friend of Sara's? She said she was going to get back at me after Halloween, but I never thought she'd go this far!" Though Sara had been pretty angry, reflected Noelle. Not like her to be so humorless...but how was I supposed to know she had a weak bladder?

"My Yuletide visit has nothing to do with your prank of dressing as a witch and jumping out of Sara's closet," the stranger replied. "But it wasn't a very nice thing to do, was it?"

"Hah! I knew it! How else would you have heard about it if you're not a friend of Sara's?" Noelle pointed accusingly, cookie still in her hand. The stranger came forward, taking the half-eaten snack from between Noelle's fingers, ignoring her instinctual step back.

"I believe this was meant for me?" she said, before popping it into her mouth. She licked her lips daintily. Very red, very full lips, Noelle could not help but notice. "Oh, that's delicious. Much better than the store-bought ones you had last year."

"I didn't have time to bake last year," Noelle began automatically, then stopped, aghast. "You mean you broke in last year too?!"

"I do not 'break in,'" the stranger corrected her. "That would be against the law."

"Excuse me?! I don't know how you snuck in without leaving any trace, but it's still against the law!"

"Really? Even if I was invited?" She gestured to the sign propped up against the glass of milk, red crayon on construction paper, which said simply, "For Santa." Noelle flushed, remembering how she had lettered the sign herself, knowing it was childish but somehow as necessary a tradition as the angel atop the tree. Then the import of the woman's words struck her.

"Are you trying to tell me you're Santa Claus?!" she choked.

The woman smiled. "I'm known by many names," she replied. "Pere Noel, Julenisse, Kris Kringle.....you can call me Kris if you like, though I do prefer to think of myself as the 'spirit of Christmas.'"

Noelle stared at the stranger. Tall and slim, with dark hair and eyes, she looked nothing like the jolly, rotund fellow of legend. Even her outfit was not quite right – red velvet, yes, but not the baggy suit that usually draped Santa. The top fitted her curves snugly, with a scooped neckline which emphasized full breasts, and white fur trim at cuffs and collar. The pants were similarly figure-hugging, and ended tucked into trim black leather boots which were utterly unlike the firefighter's version Santa clomped around it. Perched on her head was the traditional red velvet cap with its white fur trim, worn at a rather rakish angle. The whole effect was undeniably attractive, and this disturbed Noelle most of all. Santa wasn't supposed to be sexy, damn it!

"But...but Santa's a man! With a big white beard!" she said.

"Who says?"

"Everybody says! Everybody knows what Santa looks like!"

"Uh-huh. The same way everybody knows what Jesus looks like?"

Noelle frowned. Rats, she had a point there. "Don't change the subject! The only woman at the North Pole was Mrs. Claus, and she was chubby, with white hair, so don't try and tell me you're her either!"

"I am no Mrs.Claus," was Kris's solemn reply.

No, she certainly didn't look like it.

"This is ridiculous! There's no such thing as Santa, anyway!"

Sable eyebrows on a porcelain forehead rose. "First you argue that I can't be the real one, and now you say that the real one doesn't exist? Contrary, aren't we?"

Noelle would've stamped her foot at that point, but didn't want to call attention to her bunny slippers. It was so difficult to be intimidating in PJs. "Look, I don't know why you're here, but if you don't leave in three seconds flat, I'm calling the police!" She turned to head for the phone, prepared to carry out her threat.

"Oh no, you don't. We have something to take care of first." Noelle felt her wrist grasped very firmly by a white-gloved hand. She gasped.

"Let go of me or I'll scream!"

"No one will hear you," was the calm reply. The next thing she knew, Noelle was staring at the floorboards from the dizzying angle of lying across the woman's knees. She wasn't quite sure how they had moved to the sofa so quickly, or how the woman had overpowered her so easily, but she wasn't about to give in without a fight.

"Paige! Help me! Paaaaaaige! Call the police!" Noelle yelled at the top of her lungs, although she was rather breathless from struggling and from the feel of firm thighs pressed into her midsection. The woman waited quietly till Noelle had settled down. Incredibly enough, it appeared that Kris was right – Noelle's shouts had gone completely unnoticed.

"What do you want, you pervert?" Noelle growled resentfully from her prone position.

"Come now, surely you know what naughty girls receive for Christmas?" She patted Noelle's pajama bottoms in a way that left no doubt as to her meaning. Noelle attempted to rise, but a strong hand against her back kept her in place.

"I thought it was supposed to be a coal in my stocking?" Noelle said, knowing better than to mention what she'd read about getting switches as Christmas gifts.

"I left a piece of coal two years ago," Kris replied. "Clearly it wasn't sufficient deterrent."

Noelle's jaw fell open as she remembered the incident. "I thought it was Paige's idea of a joke!" she said. The remark ended in a shriek as she felt a palm land, hard, against her right buttock.

"No joke," the woman assured her. "I do keep track of who's naughty and nice." Another solid SMACK landed on Noelle's left buttock.

"Hey, I'm nice!" Noelle complained, reaching back to shield herself. Her hand was pinned firmly to her lower back.

"The way you scared Sara at her Halloween party? That kind of nice?" Kris asked, peppering Noelle's cheeks with swats.

"It was just a joke! You can't spank me for having a sense of humor!"

"It wasn't a nice joke, and you know it," the woman replied sternly. "And I don't think your sense of humor was behind the way you broke the towel rack at that open house you visited in March!"

Noelle braced her hand on the floor and twisted around to stare at her tormentor. "No one knows about that except Paige! She was the only one I told!"

Kris quirked an eyebrow at her. "I know if you've been bad or good, remember?"

Noelle snorted at that. Paige must be behind this somehow! "Well, for the price they were trying to unload that house at, you would've thought it'd be better built!" she retorted. "And it's not fair to punish me for an accident!"

"It wouldn't be fair to punish you for an accident," Kris agreed. "But perfectly fair to punish you for precariously balancing the towel bar back on the wall without telling the owners what had happened." She grabbed hold of Noelle's waistband and proceeded to pull her flannel pajama bottoms down. Watching her own bottom being bared was too much for Noelle, and she turned back around to stare at the floorboards.

"Anyone else would've done the same thing," she muttered resentfully.

"Mr. Karias didn't. When he wiped his hands on the towel and thought he'd pulled the fixture from the wall, he was horrified. And he went immediately to the owners to apologize."

"Really???" In spite of herself, Noelle started to giggle. She could picture the look on his face when the towel rack came loose....probably the same look that had been on her face when she leaned on it in the first place. Then Kris's palm descended with a CRACK that stopped her laughter in its tracks. "Owww!! That hurts!"

"That's the general idea," Kris said between whacks. She paused. "But we haven't even begun to address the naughtiest of your misdeeds. Such as the way you cut down Paige's daises in the front yard with the weed-eater in August....remember that?"

Noelle stiffened in shock. She hadn't told a single soul about that incident...especially not Paige. "How could you possibly...."

"The worst part was blaming it on Mrs. Byer's Roddy," Kris continued. Roddy was their neighbor's golden retriever. As she spoke, Kris was peeling off her white gloves, clearly preparing to get down to business. Her hand, as she rested it on Noelle's throbbing backside, felt soft and warm, but Noelle had a horrible premonition of just how hard it was going feel in a few seconds.

"Mrs. Byer blames Roddy herself when she has gas!" Noelle pleaded, resorting to desperate measures. "Do you spank Mrs. Byer for lying about farting?"

In the silence that followed, Noelle had time to feel the teensiest bit ashamed of herself. But really, was it fair when she'd merely used the same convenient scapegoat? Roddy didn't know the difference and everyone loved him anyway!

"I think," came the soft reply, laced with an undercurrent of amusement, "that if I were you, I'd be worried about things more pertinent than Mrs. Byer's digestion." And then the real spanking began.

It was as bad as Paige's hairbrush. Worse even, because Kris's hand was able to mould itself to Noelle's bottom, cupping and lifting the cheeks so that no area was spared the awful sting. By the time she'd worked over the crowns and sides of Noelle's bum, and moved onto the sensitive sit spots, Noelle's squirming and yelping were out of her control. Her bunny slippers had flown across the room, her pajama bottoms tangled round her ankles. Incredibly enough, her loud chorus of "I'm sorry's" and "I'll be good's," sung an octave higher than her usual speaking tone, alerted no one to her plight. Just when she knew she would be reduced to an undignified bawl, the chastisement ceased.

"Oooww," Noelle groaned, gingerly rubbing her flaming cheeks.

"There we go, slate's all clean for this year," Kris said, her voice aggravatingly cheerful. She slid back against the sofa, pulling Noelle with her. Noelle lay stretched out with her head and legs on the cushions, still over that velvet-covered lap. She felt her PJ bottoms being eased back up, and winced at the scrape of the previously soft flannel against her sensitive rear end.

"I hate Christmas," Noelle whimpered, feeling very sorry for herself.

Kris chuckled sympathetically and rubbed her back with long strokes. "No, you don't. And fortunately for you, I do recall the nice things you did during the year, too." She moved on to gently rubbing Noelle's bottom.

"You do?" Noelle pillowed her head on her folded arms and closed her eyes, soothed by the stroking.

"Oh yes. The way you walk Roddy for Mrs. Byer, for instance. That's very considerate of you."

"Well, she's getting old and he's kind of a handful," Noelle explained. But she smiled in a gratified way. Santa really did keep track!

"And the way you took care of Paige when she had that awful cold last month," Kris continued.

"She's a terrible patient, but I love her." Noelle sighed blissfully. She felt so relaxed. The terrible heat of her spanked bottom gradually faded to an all-over glow, merging with the warmth from the fire. Noelle drifted off to the sound of Kris's voice enumerating her good deeds. It was a lovely way to fall asleep.

She awoke the next morning to the feeling of Paige's kiss. She was back in her own bed without any memory of having how she'd gotten there.

"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up! I can't believe you're still in bed. Usually on Christmas morning you're up with the sunrise!"

Noelle opened her eyes to find her lover smiling at her. "Merry Christmas," she mumbled, still a bit disoriented. Had it all been a dream???

"Merry Christmas, darling. C'mon babe, rise and shine! Don't you want to open your presents?" Paige exited the bed with a gentle swat against the bedclothes, put on her robe and headed downstairs.

Noelle hopped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom mirror. She yanked down her pajama bottoms, twisting her body to view the damage to her derriere. She stared incredulously. The worst spanking in recent memory had left no sign at all. No welts, no bruises, not even a little bit of pinkness!

"It must've been a dream," she murmured, still shaken by the vividness of it all. Then Paige's "Am I going to have to open these all by myself?" floated up to her. "Don't you dare!" she shouted back, hurriedly dressing and heading down to join her partner.

Paige already had her head under the Christmas tree, separating the gifts with some unasked-for assistance from Miss Kitty. "I see you managed to finish up all the cookies, as usual," she remarked as she stood up, a bit of tinsel caught in her auburn hair.

Noelle did a double-take. The plate was indeed empty, though the glass of milk was still there. "Er....you mean you didn't eat them?" she asked, feeling her heart start to pound rather hard.

"Very funny, you know I never touch 'em," Paige's voice was distracted as she turned over a long, flat parcel with her name on it. "'With love from Santa,'" she read. "Aw, hon, that's so sweet of you!"

Noelle stared at the present wide-eyed, unable to speak. It wasn't possible. She watched in silence as Paige unwrapped it, revealing a sturdy leather paddle. The hide was smooth and flawless, and dyed a dark red. Paige turned it over and her face lit up – the reverse side was lined with white fur.

"This is gorgeous, sweetheart! Where ever did you manage to find it?"

"I didn't...." Noelle began faintly.

Paige's smile turned wicked. "I think we should try this out, don't you?"

"But...but...but..." Noelle's rear end, still feeling the effects of the previous night, began to throb in anticipation. She had no more opportunity to protest, as she was pulled across her partner's lap, an awful sense of déjà vu overtaking her.

Right before the descending wallop of the paddle, Noelle swore she heard the faintest of silvery sounds, which she couldn't quite make out. It was either the chime of jingle bells...or very satisfied laughter.

Merry Christmas!

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