A Slightly Mexican Christmas

Randy never fails to surprise me!

For years, I’ve kidded Randy about being Scrooge. He doesn’t decorate or really do much of anything besides buy presents and attend the usual obligatory holiday events. He doesn’t care in the least if I decorate to my heart’s content. In fact, I believe he derives amusement from watching me assemble Christmas.

The other evening, he surprised me by actually hanging his own Christmas decoration. Here’s how it happened.

After dinner, I was sitting at the computer and answering some e-mail. As I was beginning to write a new message, Randy appeared in the doorway. On his face was that smile that can mean only one thing. He beckoned me with crooked finger. Now curious, I followed.

We walked downstairs to the garage. Once there, I immediately caught sight of his latest innovation. He had parked in the driveway. This left plenty of room for the mesh hammock he had hung from hooks in the ceiling. “Here we go,” I thought.

“OK, lose those pants.” His tone was insistent, but not bossy. I was sufficiently amused and curious to play along. Down came my slacks.

“Panties too.” I fully expected that request. My underwear landed on the garage floor atop my pants.

“While you’re at it, just take it all off.” I’m as willing to play as the next gal (and probably more than most), but this is December and the garage is cold. I hesitated.

“Do I have to do everything?” Randy asked rhetorically as he lifted my top over my head. I now wore only my bra and slippers. Those didn’t last long either.

Once I was stripped to his satisfaction, Randy gestured for me to get into the mesh hammock. It was hung well above the floor. So much so that he had to lift me into it. The stretchy nylon mesh against my skin generated an odd sensation. It was not unpleasant. In fact, it felt quite stimulating. I settled in with my head and feet about two feet higher than my bottom.

“Here in this garage is my one and only seasonal decoration,” my lover explained. “My decoration of choice happens to represent a great Mexican tradition. You, my dear, are now a Christmas piñata.”

I sincerely hoped that he wasn’t planning to break me open and spill my contents onto the floor. Fortunately, he stopped well short of that unpleasant scene. He picked up a wooden rod and began to strike my very accessible posterior.

I recalled that this particular rod had been a part of one of our daughter’s games more than ten years before. This carom game was one of her Christmas presents. The rod was a kind of a kid’s cue stick. It was about two feet long and maybe a half an inch in diameter. The game was gone and long forgotten, but the rod survived.

It hurt. No. It hurt a lot. That rod was shaped like a cane, only thicker and quite rigid. It had some weight like a paddle, only with less surface area. Again and again his upward strokes caught my vulnerable bottom. Each cracking blow raised the intensity of my breathless amazement. This spanking was painful in a way I didn’t expect. I attempted to roll my way out, but this strategy was easily foiled when he steadied one end of the hammock with his free hand.

By the time he finished five or so minutes later, my thighs, hips, and buttocks were all enveloped in a hot, stinging burn. Now my every movement caused the meshing to rub against some punished area. I stayed still, quiet, and small until Randy helped me down.

When my feet landed on the cement floor of the garage, I shivered. I was cold and sore and no longer wanted to be a decoration.

“What a lovely red piñata!” Randy joked. “I think it’s time to check out the treasures inside.” With that, he led me back upstairs and into the house. We proceeded straight to the master bedroom.

Once there, I made a quick detour to the bathroom. I couldn’t help stopping to admire the art my man had painted upon my body. From the middle of my thighs to the top of my backside, I saw a series of thin red streaks. Yes, these marks were the result of a very thorough spanking.

When I rejoined him in the bedroom, I made a beeline toward the bed and slipped beneath the thick covers. I was cold and I wanted Randy to warm me again, this time in a gentle, loving fashion. He didn’t let me down. His technique was slow and romantic. He took the time to kiss, lick, and bite my sensitive nipples. He kissed my temple, my cheek, and my earlobe. He lovingly stroked my hair. I gasped as his fingers entered me. I moaned when his tongue flicked and lapped at my clitoris. I growled when his manhood impaled me. I screamed as orgasmic pleasure overwhelmed me. I sighed as we embraced into the tingly twilight afterglow. It was truly a feast of erotic delicacies.

I can promise you that it will be quite a while before I accuse Randy of lacking holiday spirit!

Keywords: spanking, Christmas spanking, spanking stories