Three Colours Red

by Lainey

“Are you a fake Santa?” Asked the curious little brat dressed in her best pink onesie.

“Why would ask that on tonight of all nights, little brat?”

“Coz, my Toppy girlfriend, Amy said that I would not be seeing Santa this year, or in fact for many Christmas’s to come.”

“Wow, you must have been a very, very naughty little brat.”

“No.”

“Come now, I only ever put naughty brats on my naughty list.”

“Honestly Santa I have been sooooooo good this year.”

“Then why did Amy say you would not be seeing me this year.”

There was a pause as the brat scrunched up her nose, twisted her hands and shuffled her feet. Then came the eureka moment.

“Because she gave me two mugs of hot chocolate so I would sleep through until the morning.”

It was a good try, but Santa just shook her head and waited.

“Well, well, she thinks I’ve ruined Christmas.”

“Ruined Christmas? Wow, that is certainly a very serious no, no in anybody’s book, not just mine.”

“But I haven’t.”

“Prey little brat tell me what it is you did or did not do?”

“Amy says I have been a constant pain throughout December, and most of the year. I forgot her dry cleaning, twice. Forgot to pick up the pre-ordered grocery shopping, set light to the new real tree she brought. And a few other things.”

“Please carry on.”

“Molly thinks I hid her office keys. I got into an argument with a waiter about the ice cream in my pancake and called him a douchebag.”

“Did you really do and say all that?”

Another scrunched up nose told the whole story without a word being said.

“Oh dear, my little brat. Perhaps you had better go back to bed before Amy catches you down here. It would be a shame to get a sore bottom and no presents.”

The tearful little brat gave Santa a hug before trudging quietly up the stairs back to her warm bed to dream of soft pillows and feather paddles.

Santa took a sip of the sherry before scooping up the mince pie to give to Rudolph. She was trying to watch her figure this year. Last Christmas someone counted she ate three thousand two hundred and seventeen of them, and enough sherry to fill the bath. Still, it was Christmas after all, but this year the little red Santa suit had been a little tight around the hips, so she made a resolution to be good. Anyway, the reindeers were not complaining.

Santa left a large red sack under the tree and made her way to the chimney. Stopping suddenly, she heard a noise in the hallway.

“Hello, please come out I know you are there.”

A tall figure in a blue silk night robe shuffled through the door. Santa smiled.

“You must be Amy. I was about to go. Thank you for the sherry and mince pie.”

“You’re welcome Santa. I heard a noise and thought it was the brat sneaking about.”

“No little brats around here. I am glad you came down as I wanted a word with you.”

“With me Santa? Are you sure, surely you mean with Molly, the naughtiest brat ever.”

“No, no, Amy, definitely with you.”

Santa resumed the seat she had just vacated, eyed the half-finished glass of sherry and took a swift gulp.

“Do you see the sack under the tree?”

Amy saw the sack before looking back at Santa, then back at the sack, then back at Santa in disbelief.

“Please tell me whose name is on the sack.”

Amy could hardly speak as she whispered “Molly.”

There was silence in the room. Santa wondered if just one mince pie would be a problem. Then she focused back on the matter in hand.

“Yes, Amy, only one bag for the house at number thirteen this year. I did get your note about all the naughty, and very naughty things that Molly the brat had done. However, a brat will always do those things. Besides, you have already spanked her for them, gave her a loving cuddle and forgiven the naughtiness. I cannot punish her again for them, even for nearly ruining Christmas.”

Amy looked down at the carpet, wished she had not put the sock with a hole on her feet.

“Suppose your right Santa. I just wanted to reinforce the spankings I guess.”

“Well, talking of spankings brings me on to the other matter in hand. You and that speeding ticket hiding in your underwear drawer.”

“How…”

“Now Amy, you should know, like Tops do when brats hide things, I know everything that happens.”

“Guess.”

“Too right. Now, please can you explain why you hid the ticket?”

“I, I, I, just wanted to get Christmas out of the way before paying it. Christmas is so expensive, and I ran out of money until the new year.”

“Tut, tut, Amy. You know that is not what I meant. That is a brat’s excuse. And what would you say to Molly when giving those replies?”

“Stop trying to deflect from the issue here.” Replied a crestfallen Amy realising she had slipped into brat mode. It was most embarrassing.

“Correct. This issue here is what Amy?”

“Why did I get the ticket in the first place.”

Santa had a sudden urge to say eureka but refrained as her tummy grumbled reminding her once more about the mince pie.

“So, now we are nearly there. You were doing what speed?”

Amy knew there was no point in lying. If Santa knew the ticket was in her undies drawer she must know what was written on it.

“Thirty eight miles an hour.”

“And what was the limit on that road?”

“Thirty.”

“Oh dear. Why were you doing eight miles above the limit?”

“Because I was not concentrating on the road. I was distracted about getting home at a reasonable time to see Molly.”

“Yes, Amy, you have been working so hard recently that you have been neglectful in things. Mainly that Molly needs you as well as your job. These brats need a lot of care and consideration.”

Amy knew all to well that Molly needed to be kept under constant supervision. One blink of an eye and she would be up to mischief, not bad things, just mainly attention seeking that knew she would get a sore bottom then a cuddle to make it all better.

Santa reached into her big pocket on the left side. Then realised that the mince pie problem had finally got to her as she felt the sugary bits, switched to her right pocket. The shiny solid wooden hairbrush glinted as it caught the glow of the lights from the Christmas tree.

Amy’s eyes also shone with the same glint from the lights. This was because they were open so wide in disbelief at what she saw. Surely Santa was not about to use that hairbrush on her. Amy’s hands instinctively went to her bottom. The bottom that was only covered with a thin silk night robe. It was unthinkable. Tops did not get spanked.

“Over my lap Amy.”

“No, no, please Santa you must be mistaken. I can’t get spanked.”

“Now Amy, or shall a start to call you tall brat? If you want me to put a sack of presents under the tree with your name on I suggest you place yourself over my knee quickly.”

Amy hesitated, there was no choice. How would she explain to Molly that she did not get any presents? The total embarrassment of her brat knowing that she gotten her butt spanked was too much to contemplate. She gingerly lowered herself over the red lap. It was a weird feeling seeing the carpet from this close. Now she knew how Molly felt, right before the dreaded moment when the first whack landed.

Santa grabbed the silk nightwear and wondered if she might get herself something like this in the January sales, perhaps in red.

“No Santa, please not on the bare. It was my first offence.”

Whack!

“Ouchie.”

“Amy, if you persist then I will go get my paddle from the sleigh.”

No, not the paddle. She had seen the results on Molly’s bottom that time she had let off a large stink bomb in the new clothes shop. One of the staff said they did not think they had clothes for such a small girl as her. Amy sort of sympathised but having to evacuate the shop and send for a pest controller was too much.

Santa soon had a rhythm going. Left, right, then repeat as necessary. It was second nature to her, what with all those naughty elves to handle, especially at this time of year.

Amy too had a rhythm. Grimace, sharp breath, ouch, repeat as necessary. In this case, it was necessary as her bottom soon turned a shade of pink. Then a shade of red, then finally a shade of deep red. She cursed everyone in her head as her discomfort continued. Who knew she could dislike so many people so quickly.

With one last whack, the hardest one, of course, to remind the miscreant to behave in the future, Santa let Amy up from her lap.

Amy slowly rose, the ache in her bottom felt like nothing she could ever remember. The heat when she touched it reminded her of that time she forgot to use the oven gloves when picking up a roasting pan.

Santa seeing her discomfort scoped up Amy onto her lap. There was silence as they cuddled until all the tears had gone.

“Now off with you to the corner naughty Amy.”

Amy looked forlornly at Santa before shuffling to the corner by the Christmas tree. Once Amy’s nose was touching the wall and her hands were gently soothing her scorching rear Santa clicked two fingers and as if by magic a second sack appeared.

Work finally done at number thirteen Santa scrambled up the chimney and off to the next house. But not before giving Rudolph the slightly squashed mince pie. It was a win, win. Rudolph was a happy reindeer and Santa would get into her party dress at the New Year ball.

-0-0-

“Merry Christmas.” Squawked a joyful Molly.

Amy turned over and smiled at her love. “Happy Christmas to you my sweet.”

Molly started to rub her eyes and then suddenly stopped.

“Everything okay Molly,” Amy asked seeing the look of puzzlement on the little brats face.

“Wow. That is so weird. I have just remembered the dream I had. I saw Santa and she left me a sack of presents. There was only one for me. Then Santa saw you and gave you a spanking with the hairbrush for hiding a speeding ticket in your frillies drawer.”

Amy laughed. “What a wonderful imagination you have Molly.” Then quickly turned away before her blush was seen.

Molly jumped out of bed. “I’ll make the coffee, you make some toast. Then we can open all those presents. Assuming you have any that is.”

Laughing out of the door and down the stairs, Molly sang happily to the tune of Jingle Bells, the alternative version of course.

Amy just smiled, realising all was well with the world. For now, anyway.