Page 35 of Thwack!

“Aw, come on, Santa. I’m a good boy. No stealing, no fighting, brush my teeth every night.”

“According to my intelligence, you’ve been slacking at work.”

“Oh, that. Well, who doesn’t goof off at work?”

“According to my intelligence, it’s not so much a problem of goofing off as it is of jerking off.”

Gerry’s mouth fell open.

“Using company resources even.”

If Gerry’s jaw could go any lower, it would.

“How did you… um…? Are you from Human Resources?”

“I’m Santa, Gerry. I know when you’ve been good and bad. I know when you’re asleep. And I know when you’ve been wanking.”

Gerry didn’t think that was how the lyrics to Santa Claus Is Coming To Town went, but that wasn’t really the point right now. The point was that a stranger in a Santa suit had come to his apartment to accuse him, rightfully, of watching porn using company resources and pleasuring himself on company time. Never mind being on the naughty list. He could get fired for this.

“Listen, Santa.” Gerry drifted across his living room floor toward Santa’s throne. “I’m sorry about that. Not that I’m admitting it happened.” Santa was wearing a lot of heavy clothes. He might have a recording device stashed under there. “But if it did happen, I’m sorry about it and I won’t do it again.”

“You’re doing it right now. You’re supposed to be catching up on work, but instead you’re watching porn.”

He was about to ask how Santa knew that, but just then a particularly loud moan echoed down the hall from the spare bedroom where he’d left his laptop running that video. The moan was followed by a resounding crack and then an even louder moan.

“I should turn that off.”

Santa nodded.

Gerry scurried for the spare bedroom. He closed the PornyFans tab, leaving only the work tabs open, then sidled more slowly back to the living room, hoping Santa might have vacated now that he’d made his point, but nope. The bulky figure in black leather boots and a full white beard sat right where Gerry had left him with his arms crossed disapprovingly across his chest.

“I’ll do better,” Gerry said. “Thanks for coming and, um, setting me straight. And now I’ll do better.”

“Good boys get presents. Bad boys get…” Santa left the sentence hanging.

“Coal?” Gerry tried.

“Spankings,” Santa corrected. He flexed his meaty right hand in its impressively white glove, then patted his lap.

“But I don’t want a spanking.”

That was, of course, not true. The video he’d been watching had been a spanking video, as evidenced by some of the noises that had leaked down the hallway. They were all spanking videos. Which, if Santa had access to Gerry’s browser history, he knew.

Santa smiled. It wasn’t a jolly smile, not a smile of good Christmas cheer. No, it was more of an evil smile, one that suggested Santa would enjoy giving a bad boy what he deserved.

He patted his lap. Gerry shook his head.

“I suppose there are other ways we could handle your transgressions.” Santa reached for the scroll and Gerry booked it across the room before a list of his transgressions made an appearance. He really didn’t want his behavior reported to HR. But did he want to get spanked?

Maybe.

But maybe not.

He enjoyed watching, yes, but he’d never actually participated, and something about the size of Santa’s hands and the gleaming whiteness of Santa’s gloves and malevolence of Santa’s grin suggested he might not enjoy participating as much as he enjoyed imagining.

“But what if it hurts?” he asked as he eyed Santa’s festively costumed lap.

“Oh, it’s going to hurt,” Santa promised. “Now get your butt over here.” He patted his red velvet thigh.