Santa's Velvet Secret

The annual church Christmas party loomed, and as usual, I was burdened with the role of Santa Claus. My wife, bless her eccentric soul, had gone all out with her costume, transforming herself into the most outrageously alluring Mrs. Claus imaginable. The four-piece velvet ensemble was a masterpiece of over-the-top holiday cheer: a long-sleeved gown, opulent in a deep crimson, outlined with faux white fur and embroidered with delicate golden thread in a leaf pattern across the hem. A hooded cape, mirroring the fur and stitching, completed the look, accented by a sleek black leather belt and pristine white gloves. She’d elevated the look further with a pair of scarlet bottom kitten heels and candy cane thigh highs, and a vibrant red lipstick and spectacles added a touch of playful wickedness to her appearance. Truly, she was the most fiercely, deliciously naughty Mrs. Claus I’d ever encountered.

As she twirled and curtsied, her heels clicking against the polished floor, I stood frozen, my jaw slack and my member hard as a rock. Her eyes met mine, and one of her hands, with a deliberate slowness, drifted down, caressing my cock. A mischievous smile played on her lips as she covered her mouth with her hand, feigning shock. "Oh my, Santa! We can't leave you like this!" she whispered, her voice laced with playful urgency.

Without breaking eye contact, she slithered towards her knees, freeing my miniature, eager Claus. Her red lips trailed a wet path down my shaft, while her playful tongue tickled and teased, eliciting a series of involuntary moans from my lips. The contrast between the traditional Santa image and her blatant seduction was electrifying.

Within a few deliciously agonizing minutes, I let out a warning, my voice a low rumble against her ear. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, she hummed softly, “Mmmhmmm,” against my cock, and I unleashed a torrent of pleasure, emptying my load directly into her exquisite mouth. She then proceeded to drag her tits up my body, a scandalous display of blatant intimacy, and delivered a seasonally appropriate snowball before winking mischievously and disappearing into the crowd, presumably to reapply her lipstick.

The ride home in my "Sleigh," a modified pickup truck adorned with flashing lights and tinsel, was a success. After the pastor’s brief, rather dull devotional, the party dissolved into a frenzy of festive cheer. With Mrs. Claus by my side, we exchanged glances, shared a laugh, and belted out Christmas carols, promising to deliver gifts to all the good boys and girls.

As the evening progressed, she vanished into the throng of partygoers, melting into the crowd like a phantom. I found myself consumed by a growing unease, a feeling that something wasn't quite right. Wondering where she’d gone, I made several calls and sent a barrage of texts, but received no response. Assuming she was occupied with helping some of the ladies, I loaded up and headed home, anticipating the sweet relief of her return. However, upon arriving, I was met with a shocking discovery. My car was already parked in the garage, and a single light shone from the barn. Curiosity overriding my apprehension, I made my way inside.

A note, addressed to the head elf, lay on the door. It read:

“Dear Santa,

It came as a surprise, but we uncovered Mrs. Claus tampering with the list. She was naughty this year and didn’t want you to find out. We hope you’ll take the appropriate action and give her a lesson she won’t forget.

Sincerely,

The Elves”

Intrigue coiled in my gut. What did they expect me to do? Still, the blatant audacity of this message ignited a simmering desire within me. I cautiously entered the barn, steeling myself for whatever awaited me. The scene that unfolded before me was both shocking and undeniably arousing. Naked except for her crimson velvet cape, scarlet kitten heels, and candy cane thigh highs, Mrs. Claus was bound and gagged on what appeared to be our picnic table. “The Elves” had clearly put in a significant amount of effort. A twin mattress, covered in a green snowflake comforter, lay beneath her, and she was positioned on her knees, her tits dangling tantalizingly for my viewing pleasure. Her wrists were bound to her ankles, secured with straps tied to the table legs.

How had she managed to accomplish this? The sheer audacity of her defiance was breathtaking. A wave of lust washed over me as I took in the details of her captivity. A note lay next to a leather paddle on the comforter: “We hope you approve of our arrangement.” Her muffled struggles intensified, her eyes flashing with a mischievous glint. Drool dripped from around the ball gag, and the look in her eyes was a potent cocktail of defiance and arousal.

As I moved closer, I noticed a faint scent of arousal emanating from her. I stood before her, a disapproving frown etched onto my face, first removing my beard and hat, followed by the top half of my Santa suit. Now, stripped down to my waist, I leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "I'm so disappointed. How could you tamper with my list?" She whimpered and moaned in response, a desperate plea for release. Walking around her slowly, I trailed my fingers over her naked skin, savoring the exquisite sensation. "The Elves" had truly outdone themselves. While admiring their handiwork, she continued to struggle against her bonds, her body writhing in anticipation.

Moving to where she could see me, I picked up the paddle and expertly tweaked each of her nipples. She flinched and groaned in response, her voice choked by the gag. Ignoring her pleas, I kissed her forehead, then trailed the paddle down her back until I reached her ass. Her body was already visibly turning red with arousal. Unable to resist, I buried my tongue in the source, delighting us both in a few moments of intense cunnilingus. As Santa, I had a job to do, but even I couldn't deny the powerful pull of the moment. I kissed each of her cheeks, then swatted each cheek with a swift, precise blow from the paddle, leaving them equally inflamed.

“I’m so sorry, my dear, but I just can’t let this go,” I murmured, my voice laced with a dangerous edge. Her moans intensified as I continued the assault, each strike a testament to her desperate desire. Her pussy continued to betray her with its fragrant arousal, a constant reminder of the pleasure she craved. A few more strikes, and her ass was a vibrant shade of red. Deciding I wanted to hear her unimpeded words, I removed the gag, and was immediately rewarded with her desperate pleas.

“I’m sorry Santa! I’m so sorry! I won’t tamper with your list again!” she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. “I’m just not sure you’ve learned your lesson my dear.” With that, I swatted each cheek once more, but apparently, her pussy was too convincing. He coaxed me into dropping the paddle and rewarding her for being such a good girl.

“Oh God! Baby! I mean Santa! Fuck me! Please! Make me cum!” she shrieked, her voice filled with frantic urgency.

I obliged, fulfilling her every whim, and we were soon approaching the inevitable release. Her breaths and moans quickened, and I knew she was at her limit. As she cried out in sweet release, my cock coated her insides with its sticky cream.

I lay on her back as our breathing returned to normal, lost in the sheer bliss of the moment. The feel of my skin against hers was intoxicating, a perfect combination of power and vulnerability. Reluctantly, I pulled out and freed her from her bonds, allowing her to embrace me with desperate urgency. The touch of her skin against mine was electrifying, sending shivers down my spine.

Hand in hand, we walked naked to the house where I pampered her with a luxurious bath and a thorough massage. The days passed in a haze of sensual pleasure, filled with stolen kisses and passionate embraces. We woke up Christmas morning to a blanket of snow, a picturesque scene that only served to heighten our already heightened senses. We made cocoa, ate breakfast, and exchanged gifts, all while maintaining a constant awareness of the simmering desire between us.

As the sun began to set, I stood by the tree and noticed a lone, beautifully wrapped gift addressed to Santa. I opened it to find "The List." Mrs. Claus’ name was scrawled across the top in messy handwriting, followed by the words “Naughty,” crossed out with a bold red line, and “Nice” written above it in a hurried scrawl. A note underneath read, “She may need another lesson – The Elves.”

A slow smile spread across my face. The audacity of them, the sheer brilliance of their plan, was truly remarkable. Then, I saw her. With eyes gleaming in that familiar mischief, she sprinted out of the house and vanished into the snow-covered landscape. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

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