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The following story is fiction.  It contain scenes of a child's spanking.  If such a subject is offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i. e., child) please stop reading now.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission.  Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice.

The author would appreciate your comments – pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions.

Davy And Santa's Helpers


Davy was exactly 10 years and 3 month old.  He had significant doubts about the existence of Santa.  His older (and presumably wiser) friends and cousins consistently debunked the idea.  But Davy was a cautious lad; what if he wrongly rejected old St. Nick along with that big sack of goodies?  Then no presents and he had a very long list of stuff he really and truly wanted which did not include anything to wear except headphones.

Davy was now on a long line of kids wanting to speak to Santa in Stacy*s Department Store the day after Thanksgiving.  He had his doubts but why take chances?  Beside he was holding on to his excuse in the form of his six-year-old little brother.  The line moved slowly; even creeper than those at the supermarket checkout.  As he stood there, creeping forward, he realized that the setup was different that previous years.  One had to go up a ramp to get to the fat man and his elf helpers and part of it was hidden.

As Davy walked up the hidden part of the ramp after his very anxious brother he suddenly felt strange.  Suddenly, it was very quiet and even a little chilly.  He couldn't see his brother and turning back there was not anyone else there either.  He blinked and saw that he was in an office; in front of a desk with a receptionist like at the doctor's office.  "Your name, lad?" she asked sweetly.


"Your full name and date of birth." she demanded like the school nurse did.© YLeeCoyote

"David Richard Jones; August 26, 1989."

The receptionist keyed it into the computer.  A quick look at the screen and she announced: "You're to see Mr. Jones in Room 'C' on your right.  Hurry; you're late."

Davy started to ask what and where but the receptionist just pointed and said: "Hurry, boy."  He went down the hall to Room 'C' where he saw the name plate: "Charles Jones – Counselor".

He knocked and then entered when a voice bellowed: "YES."  Inside was a simple office with a tall, muscular man in a black stretch T-shirt siting behind the desk.  "Davy, hang up your coat and sit down, boy."  As he hung his coat by the man's back leather motorcycle jacket with lots of zippers and shiny studs and his helmet he added two items (both to wear) to his list of wants.  He could not resist the urge so he felt the leather and was surprised at how soft it was.

"Davy", Mr. Jones began, "I work for Santa.  My job is to interview boys like you to determine what is the best course of action."  Then seeing the usual puzzled expression on the boy's face, "Yes, I'm an elf but not all of us dress in those awful pointed hats and shoes nor wear green tights.  Certainly you realize that Santa can not do all these millions of interviews himself.  I suppose that you have a little list of what you want for Xmas?"

"Yes, Sir." he replied in his best manner realizing there was more to this than in his past twenty second talks with Santa.

"Have you been a good boy?" came the usual question in a flat voice.

"Yes, Sir."

"Never cheated?  Lied to your parent?  Hit your little brother?"  Skipped your chores?  Pulled Mary Jane's pony tail?" interrogated Mr. Jones looking directly into Davy's eyes.

"Well, Sir, er, er, just a little, er, er, some Sir." Davy stammered.  Then as an afterthought added: "I guess that means I won't get much, Mr. Jones?"

"Well, you do need to be punished."

"Yes, Sir." he said in his most macho tone.  He knew he was not a baby any more.

"And you need to change your ways."

"Yes, Sir.  But Xmas is so, so close, Sir.  My parents just prevent me from doing things or having things.  I wish that there was another way."  Davy's eyes were full of tears.  He wiped his nose on his sleeve to prevent them running down his cheeks.

Mr. Jones studied the boy for a while in silence.  Then he got up and walked around his desk.  For the first time Davy could see all of him.  He wore tight black leather pants and boots to go with his black T-shirt.  He looked like a super-hero (without a cape) to the boy.  (Years later, the images would have other meanings.)  The boy stood up and Mr. Jones sat down in the simple chair.

"What do you know about spanking, Davy?"

"Kids used to get spanked as punishment but Dad says that it's not done any more.  In the stories after the kids were spanked they went on doing things.  I'm sure it hurt because they were always crying afterwards but then it was over."

"Well, Davy, that a very good answer.  Santa thinks that naughty boys, like you, benefit from a sound spanking."  Mr. Jones pulled the surprised boy to him, then undid his belt and jeans.  He pulled them down and quickly continued with the boys briefs.  Davy sniffled as he was pulled over Mr. Jones's lap.

"Have you been the bestest boy you could?"

"No, Sir." whispered Davy.  He was scared of what would come but he also had hopes for a bountiful Xmas.

Mr. Jones raised his hand and brought it down on the boy's bottom.  Slap.  And again, but harder, SLAP!  Soon the spanked bottom turned red and started to glow.  Tears flowed from the other end in hopes to quench the fire.

Eventually the spanking ended and Davy was standing and hugging Mr. Jones.  It is not every day that a boy gets to be with a super-hero.  As the boy sobbed, he also whispered promises to be really good.  Deep in his soul he really meant them – a boy does not lie to a super-hero.

After awhile he stopped crying and then Mr. Jones wiped his face and pulled up his pants.  Then he helped him with his coat.  Davy walked out of the office and was back in line for Santa.

One of Santa's helpers, an elf in a silly pointed hat, pointed shoes and green tights was flipping his little brother from Santa's lap on to the exit slide.  He was pushed on top of Santa's lap and heard: "Ho, Ho, Ho and what would you like boy?"  He was speechless.  "A basketball or perhaps a bike?"

'NO!' thought Davy, 'not that junk' but before he could say anything the elves flipped him down the slide to join his brother and mother.

Davy was very quiet the rest of the day much to his mother's amazement.  In fact he was good for a long time.

* * * * * * * * * *

On Boxing day there were several packages from his Great Uncle Chuck Jones who had not been heard from in years.  Davy's contained a black soft leather motorcycle jacket with lots of zippers and shiny studs.  Immediately after breakfast, much to the shock of his parents without being told, he wrote a thank you note.  He slept in the jacket that first night and he wore it every day until late spring.

The End

© Copyright A.I.L., October 4, 1999

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Last updated:  September 15, 2023