SECTION THREE

sm
COLUMN 103, MARCH 1, 2003
(Copyright © 2003 The Blacklisted Journalist)

CHRISTMAS IN MARCH
SANTA'S GIFT

WARNING!  FOR ADULTS ONLY!  PERSONS NOT YET 18 YEARS OF AGE ARE NOT ALLOWED TO READ THIS STORY.

[Tsaurah Litzky is a poet and writer of fiction, non fiction and erotica. We call her America's queen of erotic literature. Susie Bright, editor of the yearly Best American Erotica books, calls her "Miss Dirty Stories." Tsaurah's work has appeared in Best American Erotica 95, 97, 99, 2001, 2002 and 2003. She has also been published in Penthouse, LONGSHOT, The Unbearables, Crimes of the Beats, Appearances, Downtown Poets, The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry, Pink Pages, Beet and many other books and periodicals. Her poetry books include Kamikaze Lover (Appearances 1999), Good Bye Beautiful Mother (Low Tech Press 2001) and Baby on the Water (Longshot, 2003). Formerly a columnist for the now defunct New York arts weekly Downtown, she now teaches erotic writing and literature at the New School University. ]

HO, HO, HO it's Santa Claus I'm dreaming---he's sliding down my chimney with a big red cock. When he comes to stand in front of my bed, I see how fine that big red cock is and I want him to put it in my stocking.

When I tell him I want his cock in my stocking he asks me a question,

Have you been a good girl??

I have to tell him no. I tell him that I have been envious and deceitful, skanky, stingy, thieving, nasty, catty, and so often self-seeking, petty and mad.

 'since you have been such a naughty girl," Santa tells me, "You need to have a good, thorough spanking before I can give you any presents."

He tells me to throw off the covers and slip off my panties, the new white silk panties with cute pink pussy cats printed on them, that are all that I am wearing. I stole them from Saks Fifth Avenue just last week by stuffing them inside my jeans pocket as if they were a hanky. When I slip them off, Santa takes the purloined panties from me and sniffs the crotch.

 "You certainly have been a bad, bad girl," he says, and then he sniffs my panties some more. His red cock grows even bigger. As it gets bigger it swells, its shape changes and now it looks like a spatula or a big red paddle.

Santa tells me to get on all fours.

Now lift up your honey-bunny bun, higher," Santa says, 'that's right, now you are acting like a good girl."

He chuckles approvingly, "Ho, ho, ho."

He begins to spank me. He throttles my ass again and deliciously again with his sturdy red cock. At first he spanks with a loving touch, lightly, three gentle little taps on my right ass cheek, three on the left, then four, five, six in the middle, but then he spanks me harder, smack, smack, smack! I never thought Santa would have a thing for spanking. He really gets into it. He's an expert. He knows when to take his time and he knows when to speed up.  I wonder if he spanks the elves for practice. I want to ask him but I don't want to interrupt his concentration as he steadily,


'. . .I relax and let the delicious heat wash through my cunny down to my toes and up to my tits. . .'


rhythmically throttles me. He holds his spanking cock in his hand, raises it higher each time. He uses the strength of his whole arm to bring it down. He is really whacking me hard now.

'stop, stop, no, no, no! " I squeal.

My whole ass is tingling, stinging, but I like it, how I like it. The more it stings, the more I like it. I look back and see my butt is a deep, bright red, the same color as Santa's thick, scarlet cock. 

 "Enough, enough, Santa, please stop," I cry out but I don't mean it. It feels like my ass is on fire, but the fire is not burning me, just making the love juices inside me simmer to a boil. I relax and let the delicious heat wash through my cunny down to my toes and up to my tits. I am purring like a kitten being stroked. Maybe Santa liked it better when I was squealing Stop and No because he suddenly ceases the spanking, even though he must know I want more by the way I'm pushing my throbbing bum up high. I?m moving it closer to him, shaking it, in his direction. Maybe Santa wants to show me who is boss, or maybe Santa is just a tease.

'that's enough," he says. "You can roll over on your back now."

Gingerly I flip over on my back, I'm surprised how soothing and cool the sheets feel against my tender rump.  

I look up at Santa. His eyes are twinkling and his face is very rosy as if he was shoveling snow. His cock is pointing right at me. It doesn't look like a paddle anymore but it is still very big, the size of a big salami.

I hope you've learned your lesson, and next year you'll try to be a nice little girl."

I tell Santa, "No way,? and he winks at me.

Ho, ho, ho," he bellows, "You are a very smart little girl indeed. Now I have something very special for a smart, sassy girl like you."

He lowers his head and attaches his big, pink Santa mouth to one of my teeny nips. He starts to suck it slowly, savoring it, licking it with his fat tongue. This makes me feel very, very nice and all of a sudden, the in-between-my -legs place gets very wet and sticky.  Santa's long, stiff white whiskers are tickling my tummy as he sucks and I start to giggle. Santa lifts his lips off my nippie. 

 "I like a jolly, merry girl, particularly one who can learn from a good spanking," he says, "and now Santa is going to give you something to really laugh about, soon you will be roaring with glee."

Santa puts his chubby hand between my legs and he sticks a finger right into my slit.  I'm all juicy and slippery, and his darting digit feels so nice dancing up inside me He moves it in and out, out and in. When he pulls it all the way out, it is covered with the sticky stuff from between my legs. Santa puts the sticky finger in his mouth. He sucks it for a while, then, "Dee-licious," he says, 'this tastes better than a peppermint candy cane. Now Santa has a great big candy cane for you. Have a taste."

He puts his hands out and spreads my legs. Then he kneels over me and guides his cock into the sticky place between my legs. Of course, I know it isn't really candy but it does feel so sweet, moving in and out of me, the deeper inside it goes, the sweeter I feel. I am beginning to melt with pleasure, when there is an abrupt pounding on the ceiling above, a stamp, stamp, stamping .

Santa pauses and looks up, he is half inside me, half out.

It's my reindeer,? he says. "Be patient," he calls up, his voice ringing out like a chime. "Be patient, Dasher and Dancer, Donner and Blixen, Santa's coming, I?m coming, I'm coming"." 

From above we hear a few faint neighs and the sound of the sleigh bells. Santa starts to move in and out again but faster and faster. The sweet feeling between my legs gets  more intense.

Suddenly Santa bursts into song:

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, Oh, what fun,?  he carols loudly, "it is to ride a one-horse open sleigh."

His mellifluous voice rises to a crescendo as he plunges into me, expelling some thick white stuff that smells like a toasted marshmallow. I feel very happy. Santa is happy too; he falls down on top of me and gives me a big hug.

Merry Christmas," he whispers in my ear. "Did you like your gift??

Yes, Santa," I say.

I can feel Santa's white stuff running down the inside of my legs. I want to show Santa just how much I like it by asking him to rub it all over me, but then we hear the bells jingling above us again. Santa stands up and tucks his versatile thing back inside his trousers.

I have one last gift for you," he says and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny red wood paddle on a green velvet ribbon. It is adorable just like Santa. He puts it around my neck. "I have to go now," Santa says, "I have lot of other little girls to visit tonight. But remember, if you are a good girl," and he winks at me again, "it's a candy cane world." I understand just what Santa means.

I hope you're right, Santa," I say.

Be a good girl like Santa taught you and you can count on it," he replies.

Santa pats me tenderly on the head, and with a final, "Ho, ho, ho," he turns and vanishes back up the chimney  ##

CLICK HERE TO GET TO INDEX OF COLUMN 103


CLICK HERE TO GET TO INDEX OF COLUMNS

The Blacklisted Journalist can be contacted at P.O.Box 964, Elizabeth, NJ 07208-0964
The Blacklisted Journalist's E-Mail Address:
info@blacklistedjournalist.com
 
 

THE BLACKLISTED JOURNALIST IS A SERVICE MARK OF AL ARONOWITZ