tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57702001345280378852024-02-20T02:25:58.800-08:00William and ChrisPlease Note: All Stories on this Blog are Copyright - 2009-2018LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-55076195818059405242012-12-13T11:39:00.000-08:002012-12-13T11:41:31.934-08:00Christmas Future<em><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Written for the WL 2012 Christmas Challenge</span></strong></em><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Comic Sans MS;"> </span></o:p></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Space, the final frontier<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">These are the voyages of Chris Cringle and his sleigh<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">His lifelong mission to deliver Christmas packages<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">To seek out believers no matter how far they roam<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">To boldly spread Christmas cheer as far as his top will
allow him<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Santa’s log Stardate 2312.25: It has become increasingly
challenging to deliver all my presents since human kind has moved out into
space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though magical technology has
allowed the reindeer and I to traverse the Alpha quadrant of our galaxy at warp
speeds many times greater than those of the fastest starships in the fleet, I
still have a hard time getting my run complete on time to be home by my curfew
on Christmas day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I’m dictating this log while lying on my stomach in
bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My poor butt is glowing brighter
than Rudolph’s nose and it’s all the fault of that Brat James T. Kirk and his
Vulcan Top, Spock! Okay it’s really not their fault at all, but they are at the
centre of the reason I’m in this position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I had been doing very well on my deliveries and had
finished up the Martian colonies, Alpha Centauri, Andor, and five Starbases; my
next stop was to be a brief visit to the Starship Enterprise before heading on
to Deneb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However my visit on the
Enterprise ended up being anything but brief!<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Using our cloaking shield, the reindeer and I slipped
unnoticed into the shuttle bay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I turned
on my personal shield which assured that none of the crew would see me as I
moved about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grabbed my sack and
headed off to drop gifts to all the good crewpersons, and burnt out dilithium
crystals (the modern equivalent to coal) in all the naughty crewpersons
stockings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">As I was moving along the corridor my ears picked up on a
very familiar sound, but not one I would expect to hear on board a starship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I really should have ignored it, but
I’m embarrassed to admit that my curiosity got the better of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I slipped invisibly through the doorway and
was greeted by a sight most surprising!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Captain James T. Kirk was stretched out quite naked over
the lap of Commander Spock and Spock was giving the captain a spanking of epic
proportion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim’s butt was the colour of
those poor red-shirts whose existence is so short lived, and he was wailing out
his apologies to the man whaling on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The sight and sounds were so familiar to me that I could
not help myself as I stayed to watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How many times over the centuries had I been in Jim’s position? More
than I could manage to count.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly
I knew that other men lived in relationships like mine with William, but I had
never actually witnessed another being spanked like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Jim’s apologies seemed to have no effect on the Vulcan
and I began to wonder if he was as emotionless as I’d heard their race to
be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However just when I was beginning to
think I should do something to stop it, I saw a change in Spock’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The firmness of his mouth softened and a
slight look of sadness appeared in those dark eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Jim had gone completely limp and was sobbing piteously as
the spanking ended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spock stroked his
back and with one hand and with the other he reached forward and tenderly
touched Jim’s face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He spoke a single
word “T’hy’la” and Jim’s sobbing stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Jim turned his face to look up at his chastiser, “I love
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“And I you.” Spock replied as he pulled Jim up into his
arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like a parent would cradle a
child, he kept the sore butt from touching anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I’d heard of Vulcan strength but to see it in action was
something else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He held Jim’s full
weight without the slightest sign of effort and he kissed the captain with
great tenderness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I was about to turn and leave when I noticed Jim wrapping
his arms around the Vulcan’s neck and turning the tender kiss into one of
passion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a moment Spock pulled out
of the kiss and looked at Jim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“You are
incorrigible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gave you a most thorough
spanking only moments ago and now you desire sexual congress?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Jim grinned wickedly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“You know heat in my backside always turns me on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come on Spock, do me, please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need you inside me; I need to feel you’ve
forgiven me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“You know that once your spanking is complete that
forgiveness is yours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However,” a small
smile tugged at the corners of the Vulcan’s mouth, “if you need me to give you
physical reassurance then I am more than willing to oblige.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Spock lowered Jim, who then climbed on his hands and
knees on the bed with his bright red butt up in the air he gave it a sassy
wiggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I know I should have left then, it would be reprehensible
of me to stay, and I’m ashamed to admit that I did just that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sight of the Vulcan stripping off his
clothes drew me in, he was lean and yet well-muscled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where Jim’s skin was fair and surprisingly
hairless, Spock’s was olive toned and dark hair covered his chest and narrowed
down to a treasure trail that lead the eye to a cock that could only be
described of as magnificent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I
had seen thicker, I don’t believe I’d ever seen longer and it had a double
ridged head with no foreskin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
know if he’d been circumcised or if that was the natural state for a Vulcan,
but whichever it was Spock was certainly well endowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fully erect I’d have guessed it to be close
to twelve inches. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">As Spock knelt up on the bed behind Jim, realization of
what I was doing hit me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was certainly
no peeping Tom and I was suddenly ashamed of myself for watching this very
private and intimate moment between these lovers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickly fled the room and ran back to my
sleigh and reindeer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was half way to
the Denebian colony when I realized that I had left the Enterprise without
leaving their presents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to turn
around and finish my job. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Once again I landed my sleigh and slid stealthily along
that same corridor, passed the captain’s quarters and on to leave the gifts
under the tree in the large recreation room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was just completing my job when I heard the sound of the doors opening
behind me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I had put a temporary
seal on them so I would not be disturbed so I was quite shocked that they had
opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However my shield should render
me invisible to anyone so I had nothing to fear, or so I thought. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I was more than a little surprised when Spock entered the
room and was shocked when he looked right at me, there was no doubt he was
making eye contact with someone he should have been incapable of seeing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">He stared at me for just a moment, and then raised a
single eyebrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I believe that I find
myself in the presence of the legendary character of Santa Claus?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I nodded slowly, “yes I am he who is known as Santa
Claus, though my friends call me Chris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How is it that you can see me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“I am Vulcan, I could sense your strong emotional
presence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From there I was able to
adjust a scanner to detect you despite the advanced technology of your cloaking
device.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“I’m sorry if my emotions disturbed you Mr. Spock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will attempt to contain them when I am near
Vulcans in the future.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Spock raised his eyebrow again, “You know my name.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I smiled, “you are half human, and it is my job to know
the names of human’s wherever I go.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“Is it also your job to spy upon humans during private
moments?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">He knew! My face flushed hotly and I tried to come up
with a reasonable explanation. “Well you know how it goes, ‘he sees you when
you’re sleeping, he knows if you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good’
etcetera, etcetera.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“And so you believe seeing Jim being punished is a part
of ‘how it goes’?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“No,” I answered ashamedly. “It is not, I…well I…let’s
just say that I’ve been in Jim’s position on many occasions and I allowed my
curiosity to get the better of my judgement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I owe you both a sincere apology.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m afraid my husband would find my behaviour worthy of a spanking of
equal proportion. I feel extremely guilty and ashamed for what I have done.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Spock’s expression softened at my admission.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tilted his head and gave me a bear hint of
a smile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I suggest that you talk with
your husband when you return home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am
certain that he can help you with those feelings.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">If anything my face flushed a deeper shade of red, but I
knew that this Vulcan understood only too well, how to deal with a brat in my
position.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Thank you Mr. Spock I will be
sure to talk to him.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“Then Mr. Claus I will bid you good night.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“It’s Chris, Chris Cringle.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">“Very well Chris.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I believe the appropriate greeting would be Merry Christmas.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I laughed, “Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas to you Mr. Spock
and please give my best wishes to Jim as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are some special packages under the tree for each of you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I returned to my sleigh to my team gave a whistle and
away we all flew like….well you know the rest!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">When I returned home, over an hour later than my curfew
that morning, I had to face a worried William and then add to his concerned by
telling him the story of my encounter on the Enterprise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is why I find myself dictating my log,
with a glowing red butt, lying on my stomach in bed on Christmas morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though my butt may be sore, my heart feels
light, William took care of me as he always does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only thing that I regret is that I never did
find out why Jim was in so much trouble with his husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">~*~<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Comic Sans MS;">Christmas morning onboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, Jim
examined the contents of the package which had been labeled ‘To James Kirk,
from Santa’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who could have given him
such a gift?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spock vehemently denied
being ‘Santa’ but who else would know such a thing would be useful to the
Captain of this Starship?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A large tube
of C.C.’s Numbing Lotion, guaranteed to take the sting out of the sorest butts
in the galaxy!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"></span><span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">The End.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-65508852617693054502012-09-18T07:55:00.001-07:002012-09-18T07:55:11.781-07:00VespersThis is my answer to the WL 'Hush' Challenge.<br /><br />(With extreme apologies to A.A.
Milne, Christopher Robin and any of their descendants)<br /> <br /><br />Naughty Santa kneels at the foot of the bed<br />Droops on his hands
a bearded old head<br />Hush! Hush! Whisper who dares!<br />Christopher <span class="mark" id="misspell-2">Cringle</span> is saying his prayers.<br /><br />God bless
William, I know that's right<br />Lord we had fun in the bath tonight<br />His hands
are so bold and his body so hot<br />Oh God bless his big **** I love it a
lot<br /><br />If I open my fingers a little bit more<br />I can see William's paddle
hooked on the door<br />It's of <span class="mark" id="misspell-3">Lexan</span>
plastic, nothing like wood<br />Oh! God please help me to keep being good<br /><br />I
wasn't very nice to Rudolph today<br />I never should have told him to go fly
away<br />We had to go searching all the highs and the lows<br />Thank heavens we
spotted his fat glowing nose<br /><br />Oh! By the way God, I have to confess<br />I
didn't clean my workshop, now it's a mess<br />I told William I'd do it, but I
went out instead<br />Too much <span class="mark" id="misspell-4">nog</span> with the
elves, and now I'm so dead<br /><br />Naughty Santa kneels at the foot of the
bed<br />Droops on his hands a bearded old head<br />Hush! Hush! Whisper who
dares!<br />Christopher <span class="mark" id="misspell-5">Cringle</span> is saying
his prayers.<br />LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-68073972200264705792012-02-14T19:29:00.000-08:002012-07-28T09:12:53.425-07:00Leather Dreams and Chocolate Wishes<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
William was awakened by a yell. He switched on the light and saw Chris sitting straight up in bed. He was pale faced and sweating. William pulled his husband into his arms. “That must have been a pretty bad dream.”</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
“It was horrible…you can’t imagine.”</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal" id="yui_3_2_0_1_1329275859801642">
</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
“Tell me.”</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
“We were at Rudolph’s Reins and Leather Emporium and in walked E.B. He was dressed in full leathers and carrying a huge leather paddle! He looked right at me and said ‘Claus, your ass is mine.’ And all you said was ‘No chocolate eggs for him when you’re done, he’s on a diet;.”</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="yiv1098486516MsoNormal">
William chuckled. “Okay, I guess I went a bit too far when I said no chocolate between now and Easter. I was only thinking of you when I said that, after all you’re the one that said you wanted to drop a few pounds before we went on our cruise.”</div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-55640090146232500142011-12-21T04:00:00.000-08:002011-12-21T04:02:28.686-08:00On The Naughty List“Christopher Noel Cringle,” the guard called. “Your fine has been paid. You’re free to go; you can pick up your possessions from the desk sergeant.” The guard opened the cell door and Chris slowly made his way out. He cringed as he looked as his husband standing on the other side of the police station counter. <br />
<br />
He stopped and picked up the large plastic bag containing his coat, hat, belt, and cell phone. <br />
<br />
The look on William’s face did not bode well for the comfort of his posterior once they were back at the Pole. He thought maybe an explanation now might help a little. “William, I…”<br />
<br />
He was cut off in mid thought. “Don’t, not here, not now.” William replied sharply. “Let’s just get going before we have further problems.” <br />
<br />
The two men were outside before William asked. “Where did you leave the sleigh?” <br />
<br />
“On top of a restaurant on Union Street, just a couple of blocks from here.”<br />
<br />
“Alright, we’ll walked over. I had Bernie fly me down. He’s already on his way back home. We’ll go home in your sleigh. You just have Dasher, right?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.”<br />
<br />
They walk around the back alley of the restaurant and Chris gave a whistle. Seconds later the familiar sleigh pulled by a single reindeer appeared before them. Chris pulled an apple from his pocket and <br />
held it out for the reindeer who gave him a look of disgust before taking the treat.<br />
<br />
William shook his head. “I don’t blame you for being put out, Dasher; waiting here for all this time. Well, not to worry. This WON’T be happening again.” He turned to look at Chris. “Get in, we’ve got a long trip home and we’re all tired.”<br />
<br />
Chris climbed sadly into the sleigh and William sat beside him, taking the reins from Chris’s hands. “I’ll be driving.” He gave a shake to the reins and call out. “Home, Dasher.”<br />
<br />
It was a quiet ride home. Even with the reindeer’s ability to slip through the time stream moving faster than any human could imagine, it still took nearly half an hour to get from San Francisco to the North Pole. Once they had Dasher comfortably returned to his stall in the stables, Chris and William headed into Santa’s Castle. <br />
<br />
“Straight to the den so we can get this situation dealt with,” William ordered. Once there he went to his desk and pulled out the Lexan paddle and brought it over to the sofa where Chris had sat. <br />
<br />
Chris gulped audibly when he saw the implement; nothing was nastier than that thing. <br />
<br />
“I want to get the facts straight here before we begin. Did I or did I not tell you to ignore the mortals and their versions of Santa Claus? Did I not specifically tell you that this was nothing for you to get involved in, whether you liked how they represent you or not? You’ve managed to ignore this so called ‘Santa-con’ in the past. Why did you insist on going down and causing trouble at this one?” <br />
<br />
Chris squirmed. Somehow he’d hoped that William wouldn’t press for details but now that he had, he knew he couldn’t just lie about what happened. “They were…well they were doing something different this year and well it was in San Francisco you know and well…”<br />
<br />
“Out with it, Chris. I’m not waiting all night.”<br />
<br />
“TheyweregoingfortheworldrecordforthenumberofnudeSanta’sinoneplace,” he blurted out quickly.<br />
<br />
William’s head perked up. “What did you just say?”<br />
<br />
“They were going for the world record for the number of nude Santa’s in one place,” he repeated.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RHkXOKoC5RZDgD7SZhFWyqmkriV9COgH105BxwLP2ZK-xyV3cf7uhOW-sw84MiL7lwHM2-OSuc17U7t6XHS5AdujqEnK00UPlfZAD5LvRkkP1k4CLjPSqlZDoqsP6ey0QFLtxO8MfFbI/s1600/santas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RHkXOKoC5RZDgD7SZhFWyqmkriV9COgH105BxwLP2ZK-xyV3cf7uhOW-sw84MiL7lwHM2-OSuc17U7t6XHS5AdujqEnK00UPlfZAD5LvRkkP1k4CLjPSqlZDoqsP6ey0QFLtxO8MfFbI/s320/santas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
Sighing deeply William asked, “You didn’t, did you?”<br />
<br />
“Well I was going to, I mean I thought it would be fun, but…”<br />
<br />
“But?”<br />
<br />
“But just before they tried to get the people together for the nude gathering, I stopped to get an ice cream cone from a vendor and there I saw this man and he had a little boy with him and I suggested to him that it wasn’t the sort of thing a child should be attending. And well he said, ‘mind your own business old man the kid already knows there ain’t no such thing as Santa Claus.”<br />
<br />
“And of course you took exception to that?”<br />
<br />
“No, I mean yes I did but I didn’t say anything I really didn’t. I accept that some people tell their children that I don’t exist, I don’t like it but I really was prepared to let it go. But the child, well you know they can see me for who I really am. Well he smiled up at me and asked if I could bring him a Star Wars Lego set for Christmas. When I knelt down to talk to him the father grabbed the boy called me a… pervert and pushed me over. The man stormed away with the child but in the meantime I landed backwards into a rather large size lady. She was in a skin tight red leather outfit with white fir trim styled I suppose to look like mine. And the lady took exception to my landing against her. She pulled me to my feet and asked if I needed to be shown what she did to misbehaving boys like me. <br />
I said no thank you and turned away from her as fast as I could. I bumped into a rather unsavoury looking fellow who pinched my bottom so I turned from him quickly and it was then I ran full force into the policeman on horseback who was moving through the crowd. The horse was very calm <br />
about it but the policeman took exception to the fact that my ice cream cone flew from my hand as I ran into him and splatted all up over his uniform. And well that’s when I was hauled off to the pokey, at first he was going to charge me with assaulting an officer but the desk sergeant was laughing so hard when he heard the story that he made them drop the charge to public nuisance which could be paid by a fine. But when I went to pay the fine I found my wallet had been stolen. I think it was the man who pinched my bottom; he probably did that to distract me from the fact he was pinching my wallet at the same time. And so that’s why I had to call you to come and pay the fine and get me out.”<br />
<br />
William sat on the sofa just shaking his head. Only his Chris could go to attend a Santa-con and be arrested for causing a public nuisance. <br />
<br />
“Alright,my boy,let me make this clear you are not being spanked for being arrested. You are being spanked for disobeying me when I specifically told you to stay away from such mortal events. Is that understood?”<br />
<br />
Chris nodded sadly. “Yes sir.”<br />
<br />
“Alright, up you get. Drop those red pants and let’s get this done.”<br />
<br />
Chris quickly found himself in the familiar position across his top’s lap with his legs neatly trapped between Williams, and his upper body situated across the seats of the sofa. <br />
<br />
William didn’t want to keep this going any longer than necessary. He picked up the light weight paddle and set to work on turning his beloved’s backside the same shade of red as his famous suit. The Lexan paddle was very deceptive, light weight but it left a nasty sting that made the recipient feel like he was being stung by a hundred angry bees. There was going to be no leniency as far as William was concerned. Out and out defiance was not going to be tolerated. He spent several minutes <br />
bringing that paddle down again and again, hardening his heart to Chris’s pleas that he was sorry and would never do it again. It wasn’t until Chris’s entreaties turned to sobs that William put the paddle aside and began the job of comforting his lover. <br />
<br />
The rest of their evening was spent quietly together, reconnecting after a difficult day. <br />
<br />
The next morning Chris dragged himself from bed and padded down to the kitchen. “Good morning,” he mumbled to William who sat at the table drinking coffee and reading the San Francisco Examiner. <br />
<br />
“Good morning, coffee’s ready, William replied as he continued to read.<br />
<br />
Chris got his coffee and returned to the table. He noticed a large hole cut in the front page of the paper. “Since when do you read a San Francisco paper and what have you cut out of it?”<br />
<br />
William smirked and pointed to the refrigerator door. There on the door was the mug shot they’d taken of Chris at the police station. William had carefully cut it out along with the headline. ‘SANTA IN THE HOOSCOW”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3R47aL9xCkBrIHHeb3ohBO3KlHNbC2PUSjTrnH8_bhHpIhZBlUEz0isASGstgByA7Vbis7xzIgNFNvJiZHxqPSIRpC_v4QRyts1O5LhAdy3M7smu1wKWAUoGteSxfVinreerBaraTbVC/s1600/KrisKringle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN3R47aL9xCkBrIHHeb3ohBO3KlHNbC2PUSjTrnH8_bhHpIhZBlUEz0isASGstgByA7Vbis7xzIgNFNvJiZHxqPSIRpC_v4QRyts1O5LhAdy3M7smu1wKWAUoGteSxfVinreerBaraTbVC/s320/KrisKringle.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br />
All Chris could do was shake his head and say, “They always spell my name wrong!”<br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-78195373494892192982011-09-24T14:31:00.000-07:002011-09-24T14:31:11.808-07:00T'was a Night at the Leather Club<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">A (very tongue in cheek) answer to the Leather Challenge<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris knew the type of bar it was. After all, no business could open at the North Pole without getting a permit through his office. He also knew that William would not approve of his attending such a place on his own. Well he wasn't exactly on his own. He was here with Bernie his head elf and the entire wooden toy night shift. Claiborne was the youngest on the crew. He was turning one hundred today and they were taking him out to celebrate his coming of age. Chris only wished they'd chosen a different place to take young elf: The Narly </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Gnome for instance, or even Jack's Frosty Ales and Beers. But no, they had to choose Rudolph's Reins and Restraints Leather Emporium.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Damn that shiny nosed buck for opening this place. Not that Chris could really blame him. After all, what's the guy got to do the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year? The problem was that there was an excess of tops at the Pole, looking for subs they could wrap their harness around. Though the average North Pole citizen would never suspect Santa was a Brat, the word had leaked out within "the community", and Chris had been hit on a number of times recently by some very hot tops looking to take charge of the Pole's ultimate sub.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">William had become increasingly growly and protective of his boy lately. The only reason Chris had gotten out this evening without his husband at his side, was that William had flown to Easter Island this morning to enter negotiations with "The Bunny" to expand his bakery to include a chocolatier. William wanted to begin supplying that damn rabbit with all his chocolate eggs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">So here was Chris, unaccompanied at the notorious leather bar. He purposely wore his full red suit in hopes of looking the part of the big man who was in charge of the North Pole. The last thing he wanted was to have to fight off some pushy top.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">His companions got several tables right next to the stage, so Chris went up to the bar and ordered a round of Pole Pale Ales for the group.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">While he was waiting to pay he felt a very large hand squeeze his right butt cheek. A husky voice growled in his ear. "With that wimpy baker boy of yours out of town you've come looking for someone who can really satisfy you, eh boy?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris turned to find a large ogre standing only a hair's breadth from him. He tried to push back and shove the ogre out of his personal space, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. "Back off! I'm not your boy." He tried to sidestep the creature but found himself pinned against the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"Don't try and fool me," the ogre laughed. "I know all about your type; big man by day, little boy by night." The ogre ran his hand down the side of Chris' face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"I told you to back off." Chris turned his face away from the stroke.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Suddenly the ogre was stumbling backwards away from Chris. The large creature let out a startled ‘oomph’ as he landed on his backside.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">A tall impressively built man stood beside him. "I believe you were told to back off, ogre. Now leave the man alone!" the man spat at the beast.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris swallowed hard at the look of the man, he wore snug leather pants and a studded leather jacket open to reveal a tight black t-shirt stretched over well-defined pecks. His large hands were encased in leather gloves and his feet in highly polished Doc Martin's. On his head was a bikers cap and over his eyes he wore a black mask reminiscent of the Lone Ranger.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"You shouldn't come to places like this without your top," the man spoke softly. "You're bound to run into trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"Thanks for your assistance," Chris replied. "But I'm just here to celebrate a friend's birthday. If you'll excuse me," Chris turned back to the bar to pay for the drinks and then went to join the elves.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Throughout the evening Chris and his friends enjoyed their drinks and the show on the stage as they watched writhing subs tied and punished by their leather clad tops. The masked man stood at the bar sipping on his drink and keeping a surreptitious eye on Chris. Several unattached subs tried to get the Leatherman's attention but he brushed them off without a glance. He was only interested in the boy he'd rescued earlier. He'd wait until the sub left the bar before he'd make his move.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris was somewhat surprised but also pleased that their group wasn't bothered by any other pushy tops. He was really glad that Claiborne had a good time for his first visit to a bar. When last call came, Chris exacted a promise from Bernard and several of the older elves that they would see the younger elf safely home to his bed. He bade his friends a good night and walked out into the cold crisp air.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">It was only a short walk to his castle, but about half way there a shadow crossed his path. Chris looked up to see the large Leatherman from the bar standing in front of him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"Well we meet again."<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris tried to maintain his composure. "Yes, well I'm on my way home. Thank you again for earlier but I must go."<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"It's not safe being out on the streets alone this late at night. I'll walk you to your door."<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"I'm fine, thank you." Chris was beginning to sweat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"I must insist." The other man's voice brokered no argument.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris picked up the pace of his walking wanting to get home as quickly as possible.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Once they arrived at the large entrance to the castle, Chris turned to the large man beside him. "Am I in a lot of trouble?" he asked his voice slightly shaky.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"More than you know, little boy," the man replied as he opened the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"I'm sorry, William. I know I shouldn't have gone there without you. But how did you know where I was?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">"A good top always know how to find his boy," William replied with a shake of his head. "Go and fetch the leather paddle, then pick a corner in the den."<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Chris signed. He knew he was soon going to be very sore, but for the moment he was going to relish the memory of his handsome top in that leather outfit standing in front of him at the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">T'was a night at the Leather Club and throughout the bar, every top stopped to look when in walked a star.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">He was dressed all in leather from his head to his boot, and his clothes were covered in studs that cost a loot.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Over his eyes he wore a Lone Ranger mask, and in his pocket could be seen a shiny silver flask.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">He had a chiselled square face and an impressive body that had Santa thinking, `oh god what a hotty.'<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, ridding the place of a fat ogre jerk.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">His brat he did guard for the rest of the night and then followed him home as there were things to make right.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">The boy was soon turned up over his knee and the Leatherman paddled `til Santa's tears, they ran free.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">As punishments go it was not very nice, but defying your top exacts a steep price.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Once in bed the brat had a complete change of luck, as his Leatherman smiled and said, “now let's…”<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1nz_jHRzxuaVpT7ywrGj8FL4ylGU6LwEU8QcgEoS4Cvd12KKGEH4IvDr3_C018a5xlK_bIqjWUDFKpabWK7F2h3nD1pK8-bR7mIwyTkVOKlAUhRWVKfxXXm8PfY-rxd-93NmH8LPUQjj/s1600/Santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP1nz_jHRzxuaVpT7ywrGj8FL4ylGU6LwEU8QcgEoS4Cvd12KKGEH4IvDr3_C018a5xlK_bIqjWUDFKpabWK7F2h3nD1pK8-bR7mIwyTkVOKlAUhRWVKfxXXm8PfY-rxd-93NmH8LPUQjj/s320/Santa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-81650528081942425232010-12-25T08:28:00.000-08:002010-12-26T12:52:06.015-08:00Fruitcake AbuseWritten by Mel<br />
<br />
<br />
William surveyed the two-foot high wall that surrounded their home. It hadn’t been there this morning.<br />
<br />
He approached it, curiously noting the odd texture of the bricks. It wasn’t until he looked closely that he realized what they were. <br />
<br />
That brat had done what he’d threatened. He’d used the thousands of fruitcakes they’d been given as bricks. <br />
<br />
From inside the house he could hear a voice singing out, “Build a wall with lousy fruitcakes, fa la la la la la la.”<br />
<br />
William sang back, “Switch a brat with boughs of holly, whack whack whack whack whack whack whack whack.”LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-30220027767921117412010-06-11T13:33:00.000-07:002010-06-18T05:33:31.147-07:00Free WillyWritten By Mel<br />
For the Gay Pride Challenge <br />
<br />
<br />
“It wasn’t my fault, William! It was Rudolph’s idea to set up the mock red light district for the gay pride festival,” Chris whined from his spot over his husband’s lap.<br />
<br />
“And it was you who approved the signage and content!” William replied as he rained down a series of hard spanks.<br />
<br />
“It was just a computer generated image, you know. It’s not as if I’d put up a real photograph of you like that.”<br />
<br />
William shuttered at the image of himself wearing nothing but a vanishing rainbow flag apron. “I should hope not! ‘Come see William Free Willy’ indeed!” <br />
<br />
The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-91864189146615677282009-05-01T19:01:00.000-07:002009-05-01T19:07:00.946-07:00Divided LoyaltiesWritten ByL Mel<br /> <br /><br />“William, please, I am sorry!” Chris called from the corner of the living room. He’d been standing there for only ten minutes and was already fidgeting and whining. <br /><br />“Chris, if I hear one more word out of you before I call you, I’ll double your time with the paddle!” I threatened. Fortunately my threat was effective and he was silent for the next while. <br /><br />It had been a long season and I knew my beloved Brat was exhausted and out of sorts, but that gave no excuse for his behaviour and I was not about to allow him to get away with the stunt he’d pulled. <br /><br />Please bear with me while I explain. You see, my Chris has a very special ability that he uses once each year to allow him to complete his rounds in the single night afforded him. There is a huge scientific explanation of the whole process which would take me about twenty pages to type out and still it would be unreadable for most people, so I’ll simplify and say that Chris can divide himself. He can divide into two, four, or many more selves.<br /><br />Each year on Christmas Eve, he and the reindeer take off at precisely midnight and as they reach an altitude of one mile straight above the pole; he and his sleigh, the reindeer and all the contents split into three hundred and sixty identical versions of themselves. Each takes one degree of longitude and moving faster than the human eye can see; they deposit their gifts of Christmas love to every home they touch. <br /><br />This is a wonderful ability but it does have its problems. For one, it’s absolutely exhausting and also dangerous. You see, if anything happens to even one of those three hundred and sixty selves during their rounds, they will not be able to rejoin to make the single whole that is my Chris again.<br /><br />One particularly frightening Christmas back during World War II, the part of him that was in England was caught in an air raid. Prancer took a piece of shrapnel and though Chris had the power to heal him, he had to find a place to land to do so. He ended up in a bomb shelter that was filled with terrified children. Once he had his reindeer cared for, he spent the next several hours spreading his special joy and love to those kids. Unfortunately, the time he took there put him way behind in his deliveries. <br /><br />Normally what happens is that all the sleighs merge at the same time above the pole in a spectacular ring, and then fly at lightening speed towards the single point in the centre. It’s incredible to watch and yet horrifying at the same time. It appears as if they will collide in the biggest explosion since the big bang, but instead you see a dazzling display of light from which emerges nine reindeer pulling a sleigh containing a single Chris.<br /><br />However, that year above the pole waited three hundred and fifty-nine Santas with their reindeer driven sleighs. The gap in the ring was visible even from the ground where all the citizens of the village stood and watched and waited. <br /><br />As the hours slowly passed, I grew more and more terrified. There was no way for me to even communicate with all the Chris’ above us. All we could do was wait and the longer we waited, the more terrifying it became. Remember what I said about this being exhausting? Well that is the crux of it. It takes a great deal of energy for the re-emergence to happen. The longer they are apart, the weaker they become. If it goes longer than twelve hours, they’ll no longer have the strength to come together. Each part that is left will slowly loose cohesion until they disappear forever into stardust. I would lose my Chris and the world would lose Santa Claus.<br /> <br />Well as I’m sure you’ve guessed, the part of him from England arrived in the nick of time and they came together once again. When he landed that day, I took him home to bed. Before he fell into his long sleep of recovery, I made sure he understood that I was laying down the law on him dividing himself for any other purpose but his Christmas Eve journey. There was no more doing so to be in two places at once during the busy time or for playing games or tricks on anyone. He was limited to one dividing each year and that was all. I could not live with something happening to him when there was no good reason. I had come to know from the moment our relationship began that Chris had a special duty to the world and for that one day each year, I had to give up my place, my role as Chris’ Top and give him to all the children of the earth. It is something I am willing to do for them and for my Chris, but for the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year, he’s my Brat and I take care of him.<br /> <br />In the years since that frightening wartime Christmas, Chris has obeyed my directive and has never used his power other than Christmas Eve. Well that is until two nights ago.<br /><br />With there being only a month left until the biggest night of the year, we’re all a very busy lot here at the pole. Chris and the elves have been under a lot of stress getting production numbers up and keeping up with all the latest in high tech toys. I insisted that he be home no later than nine p.m. each evening so that he could get enough sleep to function properly. However, unbeknownst to me, he had others making demands of his time that evening.<br /><br />The “A” shift of elves were celebrating the early completion of this year’s hottest toy, Robo-pooch, and planned a night out at The Fairy Club where they were featuring The Chippendale Dancers for a one night only appearance. They apparently put a great deal of pressure on Chris to join the celebration. So Chris agreed to go even though he was well aware of the fact that he had to be home by nine. He also knows that I don’t like him partying with the elves, especially the “A” shift, as when they get into the eggnog, they are a wild bunch!<br /><br />It seems that last evening was also the night that Frosty the Snowman and Jack Frost decided to throw their first annual Snow Fest and had asked Chris to be their honorary Snow King. He seemed to feel it would be an insult to his friends to say no, so of course he accepted. Frosty and Jack live on Ellesmere Island so Chris would have to take the sleigh and fly to the festival.<br /><br />Then to add to things, Prancer informed Chris that since Dasher and Vixen had to move up their mating ceremony, (Vixen, the little slut was pregnant! And if you ask me, I don’t think Dasher is the father) the ‘Stag’ he was throwing for Dasher was moved up to that evening. Of course Santa is expected to attend all the reindeer stags!<br /><br />Now my Chris found himself with four obligations for the same evening. Be home for nine p.m. with me, attend a party with the elves, act as Snow King at Frosty and Jack’s Snow Fest and attend a reindeer stag. <br /><br />I, of course, had no idea about any of this until I was lying in bed with Chris watching the elfin o’clock news with Geraldo Keebler. When they announced the headlines of this evening’s news, Chris leapt up from his previously reclining position. He would have flown from the bed if it weren’t for my arm grasping his bicep in a steal grip. <br /><br />The sound of Geraldo Keebler’s voice and the words he spoke will be forever etched in my memory: “Breaking news: Santa Claus in bars and behind them! We have exclusive film of the multiple arrests of our beloved Chris Cringle, tonight on the elfin o’clock news! Due to the magnitude of this report, we will be omitting the usual pause for commercial breaks from our sponsor, Peppermint Canes, the sweet mobility aid company. First, we take you live to the Doe a Deer Bar where a bachelor’s stag was taking place this evening. Our field reporter Bambi Walters is on the scene.”<br /><br />The Doe a Deer Bar appeared on the screen with the reporter standing in front of it. Flashing lights from the local constabulary’s vehicles made for a sensational sight. The reporter was standing beside the bartender. “Is it true that the police have taken Santa and a number of his reindeer into custody?” The newswoman asked in her distinctive voice. <br /><br />The bartender whose apron appeared to be covered in hot chocolate stains answered, “Yeah, there was a big fight in the bar tonight. It seems the groom-to-be was informed that his fiancé was getting some on the side with another buck and he went a little off the deep end. The one accused of doing the deed and Dasher went at it pretty hard, butting antlers and all, so I had to call the police. When they got here, Santa was right in the middle of it so they just hauled the lot of them out of here, tossed them in the paddy wagon and told me they were taking them down to the station for questioning.”<br /><br />“Well you heard it, folks; they’ve arrested Santa Claus. This is Bambi Walters reporting; back to you, Geraldo.”<br /><br />The scene went back to the studio. “Thank you, Bambi; that was incredible. Now you folks are not going to believe your ears when you hear our next report from the field. For this we go live to The Fairy Club and our reporter Tinker Couric.”<br /><br />The camera panned the front of the well-known Fairy Club with its huge gossamer wing covered entrance and stardust encrusted roof. The pretty blonde correspondent, Tinker Couric, began to speak as a line up of obviously inebriated and dishevelled elves were led from the club entrance to a bus marked ‘Pole Transport’.<br /><br />“Good evening, Geraldo and viewers. As you can see behind me this group of Santa’s personal elf crew is being taken away from The Fairy Club by Pole Police. We have been informed by the Sergeant in charge that the elves in question are being charge with both drunk and disorderly, and conduct unbecoming an elf. They apparently were here this evening to see the Chippendale Dancers. During the performance, a group of the elves climbed up on the stage and attempted to divest the dancers of their g-strings.”<br /> <br />The camera followed Tinker over to the side of the bus and did a close-up of the passenger in the seat at the back. Even hunched over as he was, I’d recognize my partner anywhere. It was obvious Chris did as well, as he moaned pitifully at the sight. <br /><br />“Here you can see that Santa Claus himself has been taken into custody with the elves. It is my understanding that this evening was to be some sort of celebration for the “A” shift from Santa’s Toy Shop. All I can say is it looks like the celebration got out of hand. This is Tinker Couric reporting; back to you, Geraldo.”<br /><br />I glared at Chris and was about to question him when Geraldo Keebler began what he called the final segment of his Santa report. <br /><br />“Now, viewers, I take you to our affiliate station on Ellesmere Island and the Anchor of the Arctic Circle News, Nanook Cronkite.”<br /><br />The somewhat elderly Nanook appeared on the screen with his grey hair and dark rimmed glasses. “Good evening, gentle arctic viewers. As many of you know, today was the much anticipated First Annual Snow Fest here on the island. Our own Frosty the Snowman and Jack Frost have worked tirelessly on this project for the past several months. They were able to persuade Santa Claus himself to be the First Snow King and lead the festival parade. As thousands of children lined the street, Santa sat upon the Ice Throne Float, which was pulled by a team of polar bears. We have footage now of the opening minutes of the parade.” <br /><br />I sat mesmerized watching as Chris, all dressed in shimmering white fur, was pulled down the road on a float waving merrily at the crowds. I lost all awareness of Nanook’s commentary as I watch the scene unfold on the television screen. They hadn’t even covered a single block when a fish-sicle monger with his cart moved into view. One of the bears pulling the float lost all control at the sight or smell of the frozen fish on a stick and began bounding for the cart at break neck speed. This caused the float to jerk hard in the direction of the rapidly moving bear. However, since the other bears remained on course, the top heavy float lost balance and began a slow motion topple onto the street.<br /><br />I watched in horror as Chris was sent flying off the throne, landing on top of the fish-sicle monger’s cart. The camera rapidly moved towards the cart and to my great relief, Chris began to move and he came shakily to his feet. The white fur suit was covered in fish-sicle pieces and a deep gash was visible on Chris’ forehead, but otherwise he appeared to okay. <br /><br />When I began to breathe again, I could hear Nanook’s voice finishing up the report. “We have spoken to the doctor at the Frost and Ice Clinic and have been informed that Santa is suffering from a mild concussion but is otherwise in good health. The physician had recommended that Mr. Cringle remain for observation for the next twenty-four hours. However, it appears that the patient is reluctant to do so and is insisting upon returning to the pole within the hour. This is Nanook Cronkite, and that’s the way it is.”<br /><br />I turned to Chris, still holding him tightly in my grip. “How many?” I practically screeched. “How many more?”<br /><br />Chris was shaking and teary-eyed as he answered. “That’s all, just four of us. I’m sorry, William, I really am.”<br /><br />Thirty minutes later, we were dressed and down at the pole police station. The desk sergeant greeted us with a small grimace as he noted the look of embarrassment on my Brat’s face.<br /><br />“Now, Mr. Cringle sir, don’t you fret. Your other two selves are free to go. We have cleared them of all charges. Your self that was at the bar fight at the Doe a Deer, was simply trying to break up the two combatants. Though Stags Dasher and Comet will have to pay for the damages to the bar, all other charges have been dropped. It seems Doe Vixen convinced the bar owner to see things her way.” He gave a knowing leer with that statement.<br /><br />“And though the Mr. Cringle at the Fairy Club may have had an eggnog or two too many, he wasn’t responsible for the elves disreputable behaviour. Apparently he was attempting to return the g-string one of the elves had pulled off a dancer. It was just that he was found with the garment in his possession and the officer in question assumed he was the one who’d taken it. So you’re free to take them home with you now.” <br /><br />The door behind the sergeant opened and the other two dishevelled but well Chris’ came out. They both glanced at me and then hung their heads as they shuffled slowly towards us. I led the way back to my Land Rover, opened the back door and the three climbed silently inside. I kept looking at them in the mirror as I drove towards the sleigh house. With only the three Chris’, an empty sleigh can easily be pulled by two reindeer. So I quickly harnessed Rudolph and Cupid as they were sober and ready to fly, and we took off for Ellesmere Island to pick up the final version of my partner. I’d called ahead to the Frost and Ice Clinic and had spoken only two words to Chris when they put him on the phone. “Don’t move!”<br /><br />It caused quite a stir when three Santa’s landed on the roof of the clinic. Though the residents of the pole all know about Chris’ ability to split himself, it is not common knowledge to the rest of the world. We were shown to my final Chris’ room and I sighed with relief when I found him sitting up in bed looking reasonably healthy. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him soundly before I spoke to them. The other three moved to stand beside the bed; each looking precisely as contrite as the other. All three were chewing on their lower lips as they considered just how upset I was. <br /><br />“I want you together right now. Then the doctor will examine you. If and only if you are cleared, we’ll head home where we will discuss this. Until then I don’t want to hear any excuses or explanations.” I looked at them sternly. <br /><br />The Chris in the bed slid his legs over the side and stood leaning against the edge while the other three joined him and formed a circle. They held hands and stepped towards the middle. There was a blinding flash of light and when I could see again, only one Chris stood beside the bed. He was dressed in the outfit that the Chris I’d spent the evening with had been wearing. The clothing from the others lay scattered on the floor. I’d never seen him do this while dressed in anything other than what he’d been wearing before the split, so that clothing always came back together with him. <br /><br />He looked a little pale and shaky as I moved towards him. I guided him back onto the bed. “You should have kept on the hospital gown,” I said pointed to the flimsy garment lying on the floor. “Lie back. I’m going to go and get the doctor.”<br /><br />He grasped my hand tightly before I could move away. “William, I am sorry. I love you so much.”<br /><br />I gave him a small smile and a kiss. “I love you too. Now just rest until we get you checked out, okay?”<br /><br />Chris smiled weakly and released my hand. A short while later the doctor released him into my care. I was told he should see his own physician tomorrow just as a precaution but that he should be fine with a couple of days rest. <br /><br />We flew home immediately. Chris slept most of the way with his head in my lap as I guided the sleigh. Not that I had to do much, as Rudolph and Cupid were pros and had us safely at the front door of the house in no time. I called Bernie (the little twerp) to get the sleigh back to the stable and told him to give Rudy and Cupid a special treat for their efforts.<br /><br />I got Chris to bed and spent a restless night watching over him. Dr. Winters examined him the next day and said he’d be fine. The gash on his head was already mostly healed since it had happened to only one fourth of himself and there was almost no sign of the concussion he’d suffered.<br /><br />As a precaution I made Chris take that day off, though I gave him a project to do while he rested. Three hundred lines of “I will never split myself for anything other than Christmas again.” We also talked for a long time about responsibilities, obligations, prioritizing and sharing with each other. We discussed how he might have better handled the requests and how he should have come and talked to me about them.<br /><br />The next morning, I stood Chris in the corner and told him he could stay there and think about how badly he’d scared me. I left him there for thirty minutes to emphasize how extremely important it was that he remember this punishment and learn never to repeat this behaviour again.<br /><br />When I felt it was time, I removed the heavy paddle from my desk and sat down on the red velvet sofa. It was hard for me to consider punishing Chris this harshly but this was a serious situation and I had to make a point. I called him out of the corner and he walked slowly over to the couch. His lip quivered slightly when he saw the heavy leather paddle. “Lower your trousers please,” I commanded when he stopped beside me. <br /><br />It took him a moment to follow the order; however, he didn’t argue. I reached up and pulled down his briefs myself and guided him across my lap. “I don’t think there is a need for any more discussion, do you?” <br /><br />Chris shook his head and mumbled a quiet, “No.”<br /><br />I raised my hand and began a long and hard spanking which I followed up with ten very firm swats using that heavy paddle. I have no doubt that my beloved will find it extremely hard to sit for the next few days, but I also have no doubt that he will ever repeat this infraction again. <br /><br />I must confess that I never look forward to Christmas Eve when he stops being my Chris for one night and becomes the world’s Santa. Even though I’m proud of him and what he does, it’s still hard for me to let him go, to let him do his dangerous magic.<br /><br />This year will be especially hard for me. So I’ll ask a favour of you, gentle readers. When you look up to the sky on Christmas Eve, please say a little prayer for my beloved Brat; that all 360 of him come home to me safe and sound. If you do that, I will promise to keep letting him out of my arms for the stroke of midnight of Dec 25th for the rest of time. <br /><br /> The EndLJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5770200134528037885.post-56870432230609041802009-05-01T18:57:00.000-07:002009-05-01T19:01:01.137-07:00Doctor's OrdersWritten By: Mel<br /><br /><br />This is an answer to the DP Philosophy question posted by Jodie: Have you ever had trouble getting your Brat to obey doctor’s orders?<br /><br /><strong>WARNING: </strong>I know most of you are mature enough not to do this. <strong>DO NOT READ THE ENDING FIRST.</strong> You’ll really ruin the whole thing.<br /><br /><br />Hi, my name is William. When I saw this question posted to the list, I decided it would be the thing that could turn me from lurker to writer. I have been partnered with my Brat, Chris, for a long time. Now, most folks who know the two of us would think that Chris would be the so-called senior partner. He’s a bit older than me and he runs a big manufacturing facility in the village we live in and me, while I own and operate the village bakery.<br /><br />When I first met Chris, his sister was living with him. And even after I moved in to his house, Mary stayed on. She manages the household and keeps up appearances. You see, at the time when Chris and I were first together, people were not as accepting as they are today of same sex relationships. So if a lot of the general public thought that Mary was Chris’ wife, well we didn’t bother to tell them different. Don’t get me wrong here, Chris and I are very open with all of our friends and family and have agreed that if it becomes public, we’ll be quite happy to let the world know we are two men very much in love with each other. <br /><br />In the early part of our relationship Chris and I fought a lot and for a while I wondered if we would last. He worked long hours, didn’t take care of himself, and his eating habits were atrocious as he could live on cookies alone. All in all he just seemed to be spinning out of control. However, when we started using discipline things changed for the better. We stopped fighting and started talking; working together to build a life-long partnership. Now that doesn’t mean life’s a continual bowl of cherries, but we both know at the end of the day, we have each other to depend on and that makes it all worth while.<br /><br />The people around here look up to Chris as a leader and he has earned the respect of the whole community which is wonderful, but that puts a lot of pressure on him. Our type of relationship allows Chris to shed the heavy burden of responsibility he bears publicly and give in to his deep need to be cared for and loved. <br /><br />All of our years together have made me something of an expert on the man Chris is, including all of his strengths and his weaknesses. So when I say he makes a horrible patient, you can believe I know what I’m talking about. Chris a very busy guy, like I said he has lots of responsibilities, but when you get sick you need to stop and take the time to take care of yourself, do as your doctor tells you and give your body the chance to heal. However, this philosophy seems to escape Chris’ understanding. <br /><br />Chris’ business is pretty seasonal. Though he works hard all year, when the busy season hits he goes flat out; no stops. Of course that’s the time he allows himself to become run down and susceptible to whatever bug is going around. This year he got hit with a bad one. Started out as a cold with a cough, but within a few short days he was really ill. Now Chris, being who he is, tried to hide just how sick he was from me. He knew if I was aware of this, he’d be confined to his bed before you could say Jack Frost. <br /><br />Running a bakery means I’m gone to work most mornings long before Chris is even awake, so I didn’t realize the condition he was in that morning. Though I’d been concerned about his health the evening before, he had assured me it was nothing more than a cold. Fortunately Mary was on my side and she called me at the bakery in the afternoon to tell me that when she dropped by the factory with his lunch, Chris was looking feverish and his cough had worsened. Knowing my partner as I did, I called our doctor and arranged for him to meet us at our home. I then proceeded to his office to drag my partner home. I knew from experience it would likely be kicking and screaming all the way but I was not going to take chances with his health. <br /><br />It took some effort to get him to go home. Though I wouldn’t give him a serious spanking when he was so sick, I did land a couple of swats that had his backside nearly as red as that damn winter jacket he’s so fond of.<br /><br />Seriously though, I was really worried about him. His normally ruddy complexion was pale and pasty looking. His cough was so bad it was leaving him breathless to the point he was no longer trying to argue with me as I tucked him under the covers of our oversized sleigh bed. <br /><br />Mary showed Dr. Harvey Winters into our bedroom just in time to hear Chris’ rattling cough.<br /><br />“Well, old friend, that’s not a very healthy sound. How long has this been going on?” he asked.<br /><br />“It’s not that bad, Harvey. Can you just give me some cough syrup so I can get back to work?” Chris requested. Of course the wind was knocked out of his ‘it’s not that bad’ argument when he began to cough again, this time bringing up heavy phlegm. I gently held him while I gave Harvey a worried glance.<br /><br />“Why don’t I decide what you need?” the doctor suggested sarcastically as he pulled out his stethoscope. “Unbutton your shirt for me, please.” As Chris complied with the request, the doctor softly poked his rounded stomach. “Still enjoying too many sweets I see?” he teased and began the examination. He listened carefully to Chris’ chest both front and back, checked his temperature, his ears, nose and throat. “Well, my friend, from the sounds of those lungs I’d venture to say you’ve got yourself a case of pneumonia.”<br /><br />“How bad is it?” I asked, concerned for my partner’s health. <br /><br />“He’ll be fine if he does what he’s told!” Harvey replied with emphasis on the last half of the sentence. “I mean this, Chris. If you don’t want to end up in the hospital, you need to take care of yourself. I’m giving you some antibiotics and an inhaler to help with your breathing. You must follow the instructions carefully and most importantly, you need to rest. That means you stay in bed. Other than going to the bathroom, I want you on complete bed rest. Is that clear?” he asked.<br /><br />Chris looked horrified. “Harv, this is my busy season; you know that. I haven’t got time to stay in bed!”<br /><br />I interrupted his tirade before he could even start. “No worries, Doctor. He’ll stay in bed and do EXACTLY what he’s told. Won’t you Chris?” I said the last with such vehemence the meaning of my words were crystal clear. <br /><br /> “I’ll be back to check on you in two days. Behave yourself!” Harvey said with a grin as he packed away his instruments.<br /><br /> I threw Chris a look as I walked Harvey out. He knew better than to budge an inch until I returned. I carefully noted all the instructions for Chris’ meds and care then thanked the doctor for his help before letting him out into the cold. It seemed colder than normal for this time of year and I shivered slightly at the blast of frosty air that came in as I shut the door. Thinking of how chilled Chris had been, I turned the furnace up a bit; then went to the kitchen to collect a glass of water. <br /><br /> Mary met me as I was climbing back up the stairs to the master bedroom. I filled her in on the news of Chris’ condition. <br /><br />“He’ll be harder to tie down than a bull moose in spring. You know how he is during the busy season,” she commented.<br /><br />“Don’t I know it?” I replied with a laugh. “But we’ve got to keep him resting.”<br /><br /> “We will, William. It’s just going to take the two of us working round the clock. I’ll bring him up some soup.” And with that said, she headed for the kitchen.<br /><br />When I re-entered our room, Chris was leaning back into his stack of pillows, his face pale against the crisp whiteness of the bedding. Even from the door you could here his breathing. He was far worst than he’d been last evening and I felt guilty for letting him get this ill without intervening sooner. His eyes opened a crack as he hear me approach. “Hey there, I got your meds here and Mary is going to bring you up some soup.” <br /><br /> I got nothing but a sour look as I handed him his pills and the glass of water. Once he had swallowed them and used the inhaler as instructed, he began chewing his lower lip in that thoughtful way of his. I knew he was trying to come up with a way to persuade me to allow him back to work. <br /><br />“William, you know I…”<br /><br />“Don’t start, Chris! Because it’s just not going to work,” I interrupted. “A few days of bed rest is not going to be the end of the earth. Bernie can handle things at the factory.”<br /><br />“Bernie isn’t me,” he pleaded. “You know I have to oversee things at end. I’ve got lists and list of things to be checked. Please?”<br /><br />“Absolutely not, sweetheart. I know how you worry about things, but you’ve been training Bernie for years and he’s capable of handling this. That little twerp is good at what he does even if he does drive me around the twist.” Bernard Bell was the bane of my existence. He was Chris’ right hand man at the factory and very good at keeping all the workers in line and production up to the highest standards, but lord how he could send me. He was always kissing up the Chris by singing and smiling whenever he was around. But the minute Chris’ back was turned, the little pip squeak would thumb his nose at me. God, what that idiot needed was a good Top; someone to knock him down a peg or two. Well I guess it would be hard to knock someone that short down much further. <br /><br />Anyway, after much arguing a cajoling, I agreed to let Chris call Bernie and go through a few things on the phone with him. Then I made a point of unplugging the bedside phone and removing Chris’ cell from the room so he would be able to rest. <br /><br />I spent the first day at home with my beloved, spooning soup and medication down his throat. The second morning Mary convinced me I should go the shop and she would look after our patient. That’s when it happened. Bernie arrived at the house, insisting on speaking with Chris. He promised Mary he would be in and out in ten minutes. Mary, for some reason I cannot fathom, is quite taken with the twerp and allowed him to visit with Chris unattended. <br /><br />From the account I later dragged out of Chris, Bernie brought him news of problems with the transportation end of things. Seems the lead guy, Rudy, had been sticking his big nose in where it didn’t belong and causing problems with the other guys. Chris figured that since Rudy had little respect for Bernard (I knew liked that guy), he’d have to handle the situation himself. So defying both the doctor’s and my orders, he got out of bed and stuffed some pillows under the blankets to look like he was sleeping. Next he got dressed and snuck out of the house with Bernard. <br /><br />I got a panicked call from Mary who had apparently fallen for the rouse and only discovered Chris’ absence when she went to give him his meds some three hours later.<br /><br />I found Chris fifteen minutes later standing in the freezing cold outbuilding they use for the vehicles. He was talking to Rudy who had his head held down looking rather ashamed of himself with those big doe eyes of his blinking sadly. I could hear the rattle in his chest as Chris wheezed out the gently chastising words. <br /><br />He saw me approach and I could see by the momentary look of panic in his eyes, he knew he was in a great deal of trouble with me. Though I was furious with him for leaving the house, I would never do anything to embarrass Chris in front of his staff, but neither would I allow him to stand out there any longer. <br /><br />“Chris, if you are done here, I’d appreciate some of your time.” He knew I was just being polite and that he was done here whether he wanted to be or not. <br /><br />“Umm..yes, I think Rudy and I have reached an understanding. I’ll talk to you later, Rudy. Please remember what we discussed.” Chris admonished. Rudy’s only reply was to nod his head and make tracks out of my sight. <br /><br />I wrapped my arm around Chris’ waist. He’d dropped a bit of weight this last few days being sick and though he was no where near skin and bone, I didn’t like him being any less the man he normally was. I never minded the extra weight he carried as it just seemed to suit him. <br /><br />“You are going back home to bed this instant, my lad,” I told him firmly as I lead him out to my warm Land Rover. “We are going to have a LONG discussion about defiance when we get there.”<br /><br />Chris knew better than to argue and sat quietly staring out the window during the drive. Snow was falling and the seasonal lights lit all the streets with gay colour (pun intended) but neither Chris nor I were feeling very merry. We both knew the kind of discussion we had coming. Something neither of us relished but it was an integral part of our relationship and it had to be taken care of. <br /><br />Mary met us at the front door, fussing over and gently scolding her beloved brother for leaving as he had. Chris’ colour was a bit better, though he was still coughing frequently. I got him upstairs and helped him out of his fir-trimmed coat and outer wear. “Into bed right now,” I ordered. “Not a word out of you either.”<br /><br />“But, William, I…”<br /><br />“You are in enough trouble with me right now. Do not add to it by talking when you were told not to. Every word you speak between now and the time I am finished will add another swat with the paddle. I am truly furious with you right now, Chris. If it were not for your current condition, you’d be over my lap right now getting you backside paddled but good. You think you are so important to the operations that they cannot manage without you when you are sick? What do you think they would do if you were in the hospital for a few days when you’re really needed, hmm? And what about me and your sister; do we not count? Don’t you think you are important to us? What would we or everyone who is counting on you do if we lost you because you would not obey doctor’s orders and get the rest you need to get well again?” I blasted. “Well, let me tell you what’s going to happen here. You are going to stay in that bed for the next three days. If you venture from it for so much as two seconds beyond the need to use the bathroom, I will add so many swats to your punishment you won’t be able to sit until next Christmas! You will follow all of the doctor’s and my orders EXACTLY, without one single word of complaint. If, and ONLY if he agrees, you will be allowed out of bed by the day before Christmas Eve. At which point you will receive the punishment you have earned today. I warn you, you’re going to need that large fluffy pillow to sit on in that sleigh. Christmas Eve is going to be one long, sore night for you!”<br /><br />Large tears escaped Chris’ eyes and ran into his beard as I spoke. I had to steel myself to be strong. It’s not easy being married to Chris Kringle, aka Santa Claus. But it is worth it. He is the most generous, lovable Brat in the world. <br /><br />Do me a favour though, will you guys? Next Christmas put out some fruit or veggies with the milk. He doesn’t need any more cookies.<br /><br /> William.LJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09209660278651151524noreply@blogger.com1