“All I want for Christmas…


…is a good hard spanking!” Christie said aloud to herself and sighed heavily.

Christmas Eve and she should be snuggled up with her ideal man receiving a lovely spanking.  Instead she was working late having promised her boss she would get all the silverware in the small antique shop polished before she left for the night.  If that wasn’t bad enough it was raining heavily and she would have to walk home in it given her car had broken down that morning. She was onto the final cabinet but figured it was still a few hours work and sighing again picked up the closest piece which happened to be an ornate lamp and began to polish.

A flash of blue light streaked out of the lamp followed by wisps of smoke and with a loud clap of thunder a tall, dark haired man stood before her.  He wore black silk billowing pants and little else giving her an expansive view of his bronzed and muscled torso.  Gold curly slippers finished off the minimalist ensemble.

“Thank you, thank you, tiny mortal,” he said in a deep voice and made a bow.  “For freeing me, I grant you wishes three.”

“What?!” Christie said with incredulity.

“You know how it goes, everybody knows how it goes.   You freed me from that cursed lamp so I shall grant you three wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“I’m a Djinn!” the Djinn growled. “I am not a genie, genies are girls, do I look like a girl?”

Christie looked over six foot of rippling muscle and sinew and shook her head, he most definitely did not look like a girl.

“Of course not,” he continued. “Genie’s bow before me with their puny power.  I can command the wind, the seas, the…”

“…and yet you ended up inside this lamp.”

“Quiet, girl!” he bellowed, and then immediately relented.  “Pissed off the wrong person by accidentally kissing a relative of theirs.  Saint Nick can be a real prick.”

“Hmm, I bet.” Said Christie, thinking on that. “Does that mean you’ve been in there a year?”

“Not sure really, time doesn’t work the same in there as it does out here.  Anyway, come tiny mortal tell me your three wishes, time is wasting and I have much to do.”

Christie rolled her eyes, gave some thought to what she might want and then made her first wish.

“Alright, I want all this silverware polished and sparkling.”

The Djinn rubbed his palms together clapped his hands three times and with a theatrical puff of silver smoke and all the silverware gleamed. Christie could hardly believe her eyes and with mouth agape walked slowly around the shop to take it all in.

“Nice work!” she said and the Djinn bowed once again.

“Your second wish?”

“That it would stop raining…just until I get home you understand. I am not asking you to divert the natural course of the weather indefinitely or anything.”

Now it was the Djinn’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Not leaving anything to chance huh?”


“Right,” and once again the Djinn rubbed his hands together clapped them three times and with blue smoke and the raining slowly stopped, the clouds parted and the stars and moon shone down on the shop.

“Yesss!” cried Christie jumping in the air.

The Djinn smiled at her. “Your final wish?”


“Yes?  You can have anything you desire.  All the riches of the world, a mansion on your own island.  Anything.”

“No, my tastes are somewhat more simplistic than that.  I want to find the man of my dreams, that’s my last wish.”

“Any stipulations?”

“Well, only one really…he must be into spanmbmbmb,” she mumbled out the last word.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that last bit.”

Christie blushed bright red and fidgeted for a bit before raising her head and looking directly at the djinn.

“I said he must be into spanking me.”

“Oh,” the Djinn laughed in surprise, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”  For the last time, he rubbed his palms together and then clapped his hands three times and this time the smoke was black and when it evaporated there was no change in the shop.

“Hey, where is he.”


“You know who, don’t give me that.  Where is the man of my dreams?”

“Do not fret little mortal, your wish has been granted and you will meet him before the clock strikes twelve.”

“Midnight,” Christie screamed at him as she looked at her watch. “It’s eleven o’clock now, that only leaves one hour.  What is this some kind of scam?”

“I do not like your tone.  You got the other wishes granted so why doubt this one?”

“Because I can’t see that this one has been granted.  I think you’ve short changed me.”

“I am not used to being spoken to like this, you should be trembling before me.”

“Fat chance, genie-boy I want to talk to your superior.”

“Oh, so that is how you want to play it, well I have a better idea.”

Before Christie could think another thought the Djinn had swung her over his knee, raised her skirt and began spanking her exposed bottom rather firmly.  His hand rose and fell again and again and Christie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so she just sort of moaned instead.  Her long held fantasy and desire was finally being fulfilled.  It hurt, she felt embarrassed, humiliated even and yet loved every second of it, she wished it could go on forever.   Each swat was felt keenly and Christie found herself raising her bottom to meet each smack, as if asking for more.

“So, you want someone to spank you, do you? I can see why, you deserve to be spanked,” The Djinn rambled on without letting up on the pace.


“Yes, just asking for it aren’t you,” the Djinn remarked and with a deft flick of his hand ripped her silk panties off and resumed spanking her now bare bottom which was already quite pink.


“Brat!” By now the Djinn was whacking away at her pink tush determined to make it bright red, but the woman seemed to take whatever he dished out.

“Ow, it really hurts you know, can’t you stop now,” asked Christie.


“Oh good, I hoped you’d say that,” Christie laughed in between yelps of pain.

The Djinn grinned whilst he continued his ‘work’, never in his long life had he engaged in something quite as delightful as this.  All those years he had missed out.

“Now, say sorry for calling me genie-boy.”


Holding Christie tight with one arm the Djinn removed one of his slippers and raised it high above her red and sore bottom.

“Say sorry, or I shall make you sorry.”

“No, you are the one who should be apologising.”

“Fine, I will take that as a request to continue. You see this fine slipper?”  He held it in front of Christie’s eyes.


“That will get my apology,” and without further discussion lands the slipper hard across her sit spots.

“Owww, not fair.”

“No, maybe not, but it is fun,” said the Djinn and sets up a staccato with the slipper that had Christie yelping and squirming in record time.  He didn’t let up no matter how much she pleaded and he had a suspicion that she was enjoying it far more than even she realised.

“Please, please…ooh…it hurts, please stop.”

“One little word.”

“Ouch…ahhh, nooo mooore…I can’t take any more.”

“It begins with s.  You can do it.”  The Djinn continuously spanked each cheek back and forth with great vigour.


“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” said the Djinn with great satisfaction.  He helped Christie to stand and put the slipper back on his foot. Christie just gazed at him breathing hard then threw her arms around his neck.

“Kiss me,” she panted and captured his lips for a hungry kiss which he returned with as much enthusiasm, his hands sliding down her backside to cup and knead her sore bottom.  Christie moaned into the Djinn’s mouth as he pulled her tight against him. In that moment, a strange red and white mist filled the room and a shocked voice rang out.

“What the blazes is going on here?”

The Djinn and Christie sprang apart as if caught doing something forbidden. Christie rubbed her eyes at the sight before her but there was no mistaking it, Santa Claus, good old Saint Nick, stood before them and he would be in no doubt as to whether she was naughty or nice.

“Look Nick, I can explain everything,” started the Djinn only to be cut off abruptly.

“Be quiet!  Just can’t keep your hands or anything else to yourself can you…you don’t even have the excuse of mistletoe this time.” Yelled Saint Nick.  The Djinn glowered at him but kept quiet.

Saint Nick turned to Christie.  “As for you Missy, you shouldn’t be encouraging one such as him.  Looks like you both need a lesson…a time out you, might say.”

Christie blushed and tried to hide behind the Djinn.

“You didn’t learn from the first lesson Djinn, let’s see if you learn from this one.” Santa waved his hands and muttered some words.  Christie felt herself melting or evaporating she wasn’t sure and before she could adjust found herself in a gorgeous carpeted room with large cushions everything.

“Welcome to my pad baby, hope you like it, we could be here a long time,” said the Djinn as he sauntered towards her.

“Are we inside the lamp?”

“Yes, don’t worry I am not completely powerless it has all the mod cons and this curse comes complete with regular trips to the beach so it is not as bad as you might think.  Now, ah, how about we pick up where we left off.”

“Is that all you can think about?”

“Ahh, yeah, it’s hard not to when I know you’ve got no panties on.”

Christie shook her head trying to clear it and glanced at her watch, it read midnight and saw that it had stopped.  She looked at the Djinn and realised her bottom still glowed from the delicious spanking he had delivered, only now other parts of her glowed too.

“You did grant that final wish after all, you are my ideal man.”

The Djinn nodded and smiled.  “That’s why Mrs Claus made sure my lamp ended up in your dingy shop.”

“Dingy?! Why you arrogant, pigheaded, beast!” Cried Christie and picked up the nearest cushion and flung it at him.

“Now now, you know where that sort of behaviour will get you.”

Christie laughed and jumped into his arms.  “Well one can always wish.”


Alternative Living

Cyrus opened the door to the pub and entered, inhaling that familiar smell of stale beer and cigarettes. There was something comforting coming here; he knew exactly what he would find and what was expected of him. Comfortable. Familiar. Safe.

His mates, Jeb and Daneil already at their usual table nursing pints, waved a hello as he headed to the bar. By the time Cyrus got there the pint was already pulled and waiting for him.

“Cheers Doug!” Cyrus said as he paid his money and took the pint.

Seating himself with Jeb and Daneil, he took a long draft of his beer and then set it down with a sigh. Jeb and Daneil looked at each and raised their eyebrows acknowledging what they had both seen, Cyrus was having trouble with the missus.

“Everything alright Cyrus?” Daneil asked.

“Sure,” lied Cyrus running his hand through his thick dark hair.

Another knowing glance was exchanged, then silence as they enjoyed their beer. Another sigh from Cyrus, more ruffling of his hair, furtive glances around the bar and then he looked at Jeb then Daneil.

“My…ahh, wife…umm, asked me to…. you know, do something…different,” Cyrus stammered out.

Jeb leaned back with a grin on his face, Daneil leaned forward concerned. “What do you mean: ‘different’?”

“Just different, to be adventurous and try something new, you know…different.” Cyrus was bright red though with embarrassment or outrage it was hard to tell.

“Wayyhayyy good one mate, most of us dream of wives that will ask us to do something ‘different’. You’re one of the lucky ones. What are you doing here then?” Jeb clearly thought this a brilliant turn of events.

Daneil was less than impressed. “What sort of things, exactly?”

Cyrus glanced around looking uncomfortable. “Kissing, cuddling, missionary!”

Jeb and Daneil looked at each other shock and amusement striking them in turns.

“I mean she’s talking about sex with the lights off!” explained Cyrus.

“Hehe, adventurous alright,” laughs Jeb.

“What good is the lights off; you can’t see if the rope’s too tight then.” Daneil asked, confusion running over his face.

“That’s the point, there won’t be any rope!” Cyrus all but barked.

Daneil paled and lowered his voice. “Hey, if you want to get into that kinky shit that’s up to you, but it sure ain’t my thing. No, I like things just the way they are, thanks. Handcuffs and paddles will always be our way.” Daneil sits back with a decisive nod and crosses his arms.

Jeb shaking his head and still grinning leans forward. “Look, if my wife said she was tired of the ‘slap and tickle’ heck I’d try something else too. You’re not hurting anybody and if it spices up the marriage again then where’s the harm. Wish my woman would ask for something way out like that! Good luck buddy.”

“Jeb’s right,” says Daneil with a sigh, “whatever works for ya, we just want you to be happy. Just, you know, keep it to yourself. Folks around here get uncomfortable with people who try new things. Others may not be as understanding as us.”

Cyrus managed a smile. “Thanks guys, I knew I could count on you. I think me and my wife will have a nice long talk tonight, figure it all out.”

“Things will be fine Cyrus, just you see and hey it doesn’t mean you can’t do all the usual stuff, too right?” Jeb offers.

Cyrus drains his glass and with a nod and a wave heads home and into the unknown.