Sunday, December 21, 2008

You Light Up My Life

Title: You Light Up My life
Author: Tarabeth
Characters: Chris & Verge and bits of the rest of the gang
Prompt: Cupid

Beta'd by Mel

"Do you have your gloves, and your hat?" I asked. He always forgets his hat, and then his ears turn bright red, and he complains about being cold. I had a pair of earmuffs for him in my pocket, because sometimes they get cold even under his hat. "Which coat are bringing?" I asked. He held up his fleece pullover jacket. "That’s not going to be warm enough," I informed him. "Go get your peacoat."

"For fuck's sake we live in California," he said.

"Your point?" I asked. "We're having a cold spell. It's supposed to drop below forty, tonight. Get your peacoat."

Chris huffed over to the closet and retrieved his thick wool navy coat from the closet, and shuffled his arms into it. I walked over him and buttoned it up.

"Are you happy now?" he asked.

"No," I said, "I want a kiss."

Chris took hold of the rainbow yarn dread-lock tassels of my khaki scarf and pulled me to him for a long firm kiss, in which his tongue fully explored my mouth--sending a wave of excitement throughout my body.

"Mmmm, I'm happy now," I said as we separated from the kiss.

"Good," he said. He turned me around and applied a playful swat to my butt. "Now stop being so bossy, and let's go."

Chris and I got to the front door to find Cupid sitting with her leash draped through her teeth ready for a walk.

Chris laughed. "Pushy little bitch, isn't she?" he said.

I squatted down to pet her. "Oh, what a good girl you are," I said as I rubbed her ears. "We're not going for a walk, baby. We're going to be gone for a long time."

Cupid gave me her best pleading look, the one with the sad eyes, and followed it with a tiny little whimper.

My heart broke. "What do you think?" I motioned my head towards the little beagle. "We could put her sweater on and bring a blanket for her to lay down on."

Chris gave a sigh. He liked to pretend he was immune to her puppy dog eyes, but he wasn't. She had him whipped. "Alright, you put her sweater on, and I'll go grab her blanket," he said.

I began to put on a furry little Santa sweater, and Cupid did a little happy dance as she spread kisses all over my face.

Now that the family was ready, we went outside and climbed into the back seat of Syd's mustang. Samantha was riding shotgun. We were meeting the others at the park.

"Were we supposed to bring anything?" Syd asked.

"No," Chris replied. "Katie said she was bringing everything we need."

"Great," Syd answered. "Sam and I thought we would stop for coffee on our way. Does that sound okay?”

"Oh, that sounds great. I'd love a peppermint mocha," I answered.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

We arrived at the park. It was beautiful, all the Christmas decorations and lights filled the park with magic and the spirit of goodwill. There were shoppers and tourists all around, a long line of children waiting outside Santa's workshop to have their picture taken, skaters circling the outdoor rink, and carolers dressed in Dickens' fair singing The Christmas Song.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, 
Jack Frost nipping on your nose, Yuletide carols being sung by a choir, 
And folks dressed up like Eskimo,” Chris sang to me as we made our way to the large roped off area, were Katie and TJ were standing in front of a pile of boxes. We were early, so the expected large crowds hadn't arrived yet.

We walked up and gave kisses and hugs. Katie didn't have a lot of time to talk, she handed us each a t-shirt and a candle, with small dixie cup on it to catch the droppings.

Katie did take time to crouch down and give Cupid a cuddle and handed me a small child size t-shirt for her. "Jamie, Leo, Claire and her brood all went to get some hot chocolate. We thought we would find a spot pointing towards the skating rink, so the kids can watch the skaters.”

"Don't forget to give them the cards," TJ said.

Katie handed us each a stack of Holiday Cards.

"So, will you come join us when you're done here," I asked.

Katie and TJ both smiled and nodded.

Syd, Samantha, Chris, Cupid and I headed for a space near the rink--someplace we could put down Cupid's blanket, and have a place for the kids to sit. We got there and put on our t-shirts, they were slightly hidden by our big coats, but we left our coats unbuttoned for as long as possible. I slipped Cupid's shirt on over her sweater.

During the next half hour, the rest of the family, and over 1,000 other people joined us. The crowd also donned their, Light up the Night for Equality, t-shirts, while some wore, Second Class Citizen, shirts. By then everyone had lit his or her candle. The large crowd began to sing quietly. There were no big protest signs. Just a peaceful candle light vigil in protest of the loss of the right we once had to marry.

Over the course of the evening, Cupid curled up on her blanket and fell asleep. We handed out the, 5 Rights NOT afforded to 1 of every 10 people in the US, holiday cards, and we had several good conversations with shoppers and other people who had come to the park to enjoy the holiday festivities.

We were all especially happy to have Samantha with us. I know, I know, you must think us crazy. But, this fall Dean Samantha Smothers came out of the closet--of course it was in a beautiful Calvin Cline tweed suit. The Dean had even gone so far as to host a symposium at the University on how the defeat of Prop 8 would help boost California’s economy.

It was a wonderful evening, spent with those I hold dear. Chris and I looked at our wedding rings, and longed for the day that once again our marriage would be legal. We said a little prayer that our state would restore our rights before TJ and Katie’s wedding this summer.

We bade our goodbyes to the family, and then to Syd and Samantha as they went up the stairwell to their flat. We entered the house, shed our outdoor gear, turned the heaters on, fed Cupid, and settled on the sofa.

Chris poured himself a mug of eggnog. I pulled a blanked over the both of us and cuddled into him. "The protest was good tonight," I said.

"Yes," Chris answered, "I just wish we didn't have to do it. But, we'll be there every time." He kissed me on the top of my head.

I turned my head and leaned into him for a proper kiss. It was a short one. "Uck, you taste like eggnog," I said.

"Not all of me," he said. Chris directed my head to his lap.

"You horny bugger," I said with a laugh. I undid his jeans and released his rapidly growing erection.

I began to lick the tip of his cock, circling it and teasing his slit. He arched up into me, wanting me to take more of him into my mouth. Chris began to pant, and I continued with the teasing. I was hoping I could get him to beg. I love it when my Top turns into a melty, mushy, beggar.

Instead he placed his hand on the top of my head, and pushed me farther down his cock.

I opened my mouth wider to accommodate his largeness, and felt him pushing against the back of my throat. I closed my lips, moved my tongue around his shaft, and began to lightly suck. He thrust himself in and out of my mouth. My planned slow, teasing blowjob had quickly turned to him fucking my face, and I could feel myself growing achingly hard. I slid my hand into the waistband of my sweatpants and took hold of myself. I began to stroke my cock, and Chris continued to fuck me.

He now had both of his hands on my head, and was guiding the pace of his hip thrusts with my head bobs. "I'm coming Babe!" he shouted.

I felt my own balls pull upwards at his declaration. I came in my pants as I swallowed all of his seed. He stopped his thrusts, and I kept his cock in my mouth for a short while longer to make sure I fully drained it. He moved his hands off of my head, and began to rub my back. "Fuck, I trained you well," he laughed as he rested his head against the back of the sofa.

I gave him an evil grin. "You think so, huh. You know all those nights you were working late...I became the BJ King down at Blow Buddies." I told him.

He responded with a very firm swat to my butt. "You better not have," he said. Chris pulled me up, so that I was now draped over his lap, butt in the air. He quickly divested me of my pants, and began to teasingly swat my butt. "Are you going to take that back?" he asked.

I looked up at him; I was still having fun. "Nope, did I ever tell that I won the tea bagger of the year award in 2001."

He applied several more swats. "Do I need to get the paddle?" He asked, his voice still teasing.

"No, no paddle," I said. I smiled up at him, and wiggled my butt. "You know I belong to you, and have only ever been yours."

"Damn right," he said. Chris applied a very firm swat. "It had better stay that way, too."

I gave a little yelp, but he had released his hold on me, so I turned over to sit on his lap. "Forever, I promise."

The End.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Divided Loyalties

Title: Divided Loyalties
Author: Mel
Characters: William and Chris
Prompt: Magic

~*~If you haven't read William and Chris before...check out their other story here. ~*~

“William please, I am sorry!” Chris called from the corner of the living room. He’d been standing there for only ten minutes and was already fidgeting and whining.

“Chris, if I hear one more word out of you before I call you. I’ll double your time with the paddle!” I threatened. Fortunately my threat was effective and he was silent for the next while.

It had been a long season and I knew my beloved Brat was exhausted and out of sorts, but that gave no excuse for his behaviour and I was not about to allow him to get away with the stunt he’d pulled.

Please bear with me while I explain. You see my Chris has a very special ability that he uses once each year to allow him to complete his rounds in the single night afforded him. There is a huge scientific explanation of the whole process which would take me about twenty pages to type out and still it would be unreadable for most people, so I’ll simplify and say that Chris can divide himself. He can divide into two, four, or many more selves. Each year on Christmas Eve he and the reindeer take off at precisely midnight and as they reach an altitude of one mile straight above the pole he, his sleigh, the reindeer and all the contents split into three hundred and sixty identical versions of themselves. Each takes one degree of longitude and moving faster than the human eye can see they deposit their gifts of Christmas love to every home they touch.

This is a wonderful ability but it does have its problems. For one it’s absolutely exhausting, and also dangerous. You see if anything happens to even one of those three hundred and sixty selves during their rounds they will not be able to rejoin to make the single whole that is my Chris again. One particularly frightening Christmas back during World War II, the part of him that was in England was caught in an air raid. Prancer took a piece of shrapnel and though Chris had the power to heal him he had to find a place to land to do so. He ended up in a bomb shelter filled that was with terrified children. Once he had his reindeer cared for, he spent the next several hours spreading his special joy and love to those kids. Unfortunately the time he took there put him way behind in his deliveries.

Normally what happens is that all the sleighs merge at the same time above the pole in a spectacular ring, and then fly at lightening speed towards the single point in the centre. It’s incredible to watch and yet horrifying at the same time. It appears as if they will collide in the biggest explosion since the big bang, but instead you see a dazzling display of light from which emerges nine reindeer pulling a sleigh containing a single Chris. However that year above the pole waited three hundred and fifty nine Santas with their reindeer driven sleighs, the gap in the ring was visible even from the ground where all the citizens of the village stood and watched and waited.

As the hours slowly passed I grew more and more terrified. There was no way for me to even communicate with all the Chris’ above us. All we could do was wait, and the longer we waited the more terrifying it became. Remember what I said about this being exhausting? Well that is the crux of it. It takes a great deal of energy for the re-emergence to happen, the longer they are apart the weaker they become. If it goes longer than twelve hours they’ll no longer have the strength to come together. Each part that is left will slowly loose cohesion until they disappear forever into stardust. I would lose my Chris and the world would lose Santa Claus.

Well as I’m sure you’ve guessed the part of him from England arrived in the nick of time and they came together once again. When he landed that day I took him home to bed and before he fell into his long sleep of recovery I made sure he understood that I was laying down the law on him dividing himself for any other purpose but his Christmas Eve journey. There was no more doing so to be in two places at once during the busy time or for playing games or tricks on anyone. He was limited to one dividing each year and that was all. I could not live with something happening to him when there was no good reason. I had come to know from the moment our relationship began that Chris had a special duty to the world and that for one day each year I had to give up my place, my role as Chris’ Top and give him to all the children of the earth. It is something I am willing to do for them and for my Chris but for the other three hundred and sixty four days of the year, he’s my Brat and I take care of him.

In the years since that frightening wartime Christmas, Chris has obeyed my directive and has never used his power other than Christmas Eve. Well that is until two nights ago.

With there being only a month left until the biggest night of the year, we’re all a very busy lot here at the pole. Chris and the elves have been under a lot of stress getting production numbers up and keeping up with all the latest in high tech toys. I insisted that he be home no later than nine p.m. each evening so that he could get enough sleep to function properly. However unbeknownst to me he had others making demands of his time that evening.

The “A” shift of elves were celebrating the early completion of this year’s hottest toy Robo-pooch, and planned a night out at The Fairy Club where they were featuring The Chippendale Dancers for a one night only appearance. They apparently put a great deal of pressure on Chris to join the celebration. So Chris agreed to go even though he was well aware of the fact that he had to be home by nine. He also knows that I don’t like him partying with the elves, especially the “A” shift. When they get into the eggnog they are a wild bunch!

It seems that last evening was also the night that Frosty the Snowman and Jack Frost decided to throw their first annual Snow Fest and had asked Chris to be their honorary Snow King. He seemed to feel it would be an insult to his friends to say no, so of course he accepted. Frosty and Jack live on Ellesmere Island so Chris would have to take the sleigh and fly to the festival.

Then to add to things Prancer informed Chris that since Dasher and Vixen had to move up their mating ceremony (Vixen, the little slut was pregnant! And if you ask me I don’t think Dasher is the father.) The ‘Stag’ he was throwing for Dasher was moved up to that evening. Of course Santa is expected to attend all the reindeer stags!

Now my Chris found himself with four obligations for the same evening. Be home for nine p.m. with me, attend a party with the elves, act as Snow King at Frosty and Jack’s, Snow Fest and attend a reindeer stag.

I, of course had no idea about any of this until I was lying in bed with Chris watching the elfin o’clock news with Geraldo Keebler. When they announced the headlines of this evening’s news Chris leapt up from his previously reclining position. He would have flown from the bed if it weren’t for my arm grasping his bicep in a steal grip.

The sound of Geraldo Keebler’s voice and the words he spoke will be forever etched in my memory. “Breaking news, Santa Claus in bars and behind them! We have exclusive film of the multiple arrests of our beloved Chris Cringle. Tonight on the elfin o’clock news! Due to the magnitude of this report we will be omitting the usual pause for commercial breaks from our sponsor, Peppermint Canes, the sweet mobility aid company.

First we take you live to the Doe a Deer Bar where a bachelor’s stag was taking place this evening. Our field reporter Bambi Walters is on the scene.”

The Doe a Deer Bar appeared on the screen with the reporter standing in front of it. Flashing lights from the local constabulary’s vehicles made for a sensational sight. The reporter was standing beside the bartender. “Is it true that the police have taken Santa and a number of his reindeer into custody?” The newswoman asked in her distinctive voice.  

The bartender whose apron appeared to be covered in hot chocolate stains answered. “Yeah, there was a big fight in the bar tonight. It seems the groom to be was informed that his fiancé was getting some on the side with another buck and he went a little off the deep end. The one accused of doing the deed and Dasher went at it pretty hard butting antlers and all so I had to call the police. When they got here Santa was right in the middle of it so they just hauled the lot of them out of here, tossed them in the paddy wagon told me they were taking them down to the station for questioning.”

“Well you heard it folks they’ve arrested Santa Claus. This is Bambi Walters reporting, back to you Geraldo.”

The scene went back to the studio. “Thank you Bambi that was incredible. Now you folks are not going to believe your ears until you hear our next report from the field. For this we go live to The Fairy Club and our reporter Tinker Couric.”

The camera panned the front of the well known Fairy Club with its huge gossamer wing covered entrance and star dust encrusted roof. The pretty blonde correspondent Tinker Couric began to speak, as a line up of obviously inebriated and dishevelled elves were led from the club entrance to a bus marked ‘Pole Transport’. “Good evening Geraldo and viewers. As you can see behind me this group of Santa’s personal elf crew is being taken away from The Fairy Club by Pole Police. We have been informed by the Sergeant in charge that the elves in question are being charge with both drunk and disorderly and conduct unbecoming an elf. They apparently were here this evening to see the Chippendale Dancers. During the performance a group of the elves climbed up on the stage and attempted to divest the dancers of their g-strings.”

The camera followed Tinker over to the side of the bus and did a close up of the passenger in the seat at the back. Even hunched over as he was I’d recognize my partner anywhere. It was obvious Chris did as well, as he moaned pitifully at the sight.

“Here you can see that Santa Claus himself has been taken into custody with the elves. It is my understanding that this evening was to be some sort of celebration for the “A” shift from Santa’s Toy Shop. All I can say is it looks like the celebration got out of hand. This is Tinker Couric reporting, back to you Geraldo.”

I glared at Chris and was about to question him when Geraldo Keebler began what he called the final segment of his Santa report.

“Now viewers I take you to our affiliate station on Ellesmere Island and the Anchor of the Arctic Circle News, Nanook Cronkite.”

The somewhat elderly Nanook appeared on the screen with his grey hair and dark rimmed glasses. “Good evening gentle arctic viewers. As many of you know, today was the much anticipated First Annual Snow Fest here on the island. Our own Frosty the Snowman and Jack Frost have worked tirelessly on this project for the past several months. They were able to persuade Santa Claus himself to be the First Snow King and lead the festival parade. As thousands of children lined the street, Santa sat upon the Ice Throne Float, which was pulled by a team of polar bears. We have footage now of the opening minutes of the parade.”  

I sat mesmerized watching as Chris, all dressed in shimmering white fur, was pulled down the road on a float waving merrily at the crowds. I lost all awareness of Nanook’s commentary as I watch the scene unfold on the television screen. They hadn’t even covered a single block when a fish-sicle monger with his cart moved into view. One of the bears pulling the float lost all control at the sight or smell of the fresh frozen fish on a stick and began bounding for the cart at break neck speed. This caused the float to jerk hard in the direction of the rapidly moving bear. However since the other bears remained on course the top heavy float lost balance and began a slow motion topple onto the street. I watched in horror as Chris was sent flying off the throne, landing on top of the fish-sicle monger’s cart.

The camera rapidly moved towards the cart and to my great relief Chris began to move, and he came shakily to his feet. The white fur suit was covered in fish-sicle pieces and a deep gash was visible on Chris’ forehead, but otherwise he appeared to okay.

When I began to breathe again I could hear Nanook’s voice finishing up the report. “We have spoken to the doctor at the Frost and Ice Clinic and have been informed that Santa is suffering from a mild concussion but is otherwise in good health. The physician had recommended that Mr. Cringle remain for observation for the next 24 hours however it appears that the patient is reluctant to do so and is insisting upon returning to the pole within the hour. This is Nanook Cronkite, and that’s the way it is.”

I turned to Chris, still holding him tightly in my grip. “How many?” I practically screeched. “How many more?”

Chris was shaking and teary eyed as he answered. “That’s all just four of us. I’m sorry William I really am.”

Thirty minutes later we were dressed and down at the pole police station. The desk sergeant greeted us with a small grimace as he noted the look of embarrassment on my Brat’s face.

“Now Mr. Cringle sir, don’t you fret. Your other two selves are free to go. We have cleared them of all charges. Yourself that was at the bar fight at the Doe a Deer was simply trying to break up the two combatants. Though Stags Dasher and Comet will have to pay for the damages to the bar all other charges have been dropped. It seems Doe Vixen convinced the bar owner to see things her way.” He gave a knowing leer with that statement.

“And though the Mr. Cringle at the Fairy Club may have had an eggnog or two too many he wasn’t responsible for the elves disreputable behaviour. Apparently he was attempting to return the g-string one of the elves had pulled off a dancer. It was just that he was found with the garment in his possession and the officer in question assumed he was the one who’d taken it. So you’re free to take them home with you now.”

The door behind the sergeant opened and the other two dishevelled but well Chris’ came out. They both glanced at me and then hung their heads as they shuffled slowly towards us. I led the way back to my Land Rover, opened the back door and the three climbed silently inside. I kept looking at them in the mirror as I drove towards the sleigh house. With only the three Chris’ and I, the sleigh could easily be pulled by two reindeer. So I quickly harnessed Rudolph and Cupid as they were sober and ready to fly and we took off for Ellesmere Island to pick up the final version of my partner. I’d called ahead to the Frost and Ice clinic and had spoken only two words to Chris when they put him on the phone. “Don’t move!”

It caused quite a stir when three Santa’s landed on the roof of the clinic, Though the residents of the pole all know about Chris’ ability to split himself, it is not common knowledge to the rest of the world. We were shown to my final Chris’ room and I sighed with relief when I found him sitting up in bed looking reasonably healthy. I pulled him into my arms and kissed him soundly before I spoke to them. The other three moved to stand beside the bed each looking precisely as contrite as the other. All three were chewing on their lower lips as they considered just how upset I was.

“I want you together right now. Then the doctor will examine you. If and only if you are cleared, we’ll head home where we will discuss this. Until then I don’t want to hear any excuses or explanations.” I looked at them sternly.

The Chris in the bed slid his legs over the side and stood leaning against the edge while the other three joined him and formed a circle. They held hands and stepped towards the middle. There was a blinding flash of light, and when I could see again only one Chris stood beside the bed. He was dressed in the outfit that the Chris I’d spent the evening with had been wearing. The clothing from the others lay scattered on the floor. I’d never seen him do this while dressed in anything other than what he’d been wearing before the split, so that clothing always came back together with him.

He looked a little pale and shaky as I moved towards him. I guided him back onto the bed. “You should have kept on the hospital gown.” I said pointed to the flimsy garment laying on the floor. “Lie back. I’m going to go and get the doctor.”

He grasped my hand tightly before I could move away. “William, I am sorry. I love you so much.”

I gave him a small smile and a kiss. “I love you too. Now just rest until we get you checked out, okay?”

Chris smiled weakly and released my hand. A short while later the doctor released him into my care. I was told he should see his own physician tomorrow just as a precaution but that he should be fine with a couple of days rest.

We flew home immediately. Chris slept most of the way with his head in my lap as I guided the sleigh. Not that I had to do much, as Rudolph and Cupid were pros and had us safely at the front door of the house in no time. I called Bernie (the little twerp) to get the sleigh back to the stable and told him to give Rudy and Cupid a special treat for their efforts.

I got Chris to bed and spent a restless night watching over him. Dr. Winters examined him the next day and said he’d be fine. The gash on his head was already mostly healed since it had happened to only one fourth of himself and there was almost no sign of the concussion he’d suffered. As a precaution I made Chris take that day off, though I gave him a project to do while he rested. Three hundred lines of “I will never split myself for anything other than Christmas again.” We also talked for a long time about responsibilities, obligations, prioritizing and sharing with each other. We discussed how he might have better handled the requests and how he should have come and talked to me about them.

The next morning I stood Chris in the corner and told him he could stay there and think about how badly he’d scared me. I left him there for thirty minutes, to emphasize how extremely important it was that he remember this punishment and learn never to repeat this behaviour again.

When I felt it was time, I removed the heavy paddle from my desk and sat down on the red velvet sofa. It was hard for me to consider punishing Chris this harshly but this was a serious situation and I had to make a point. I called him out of the corner, and he walked slowly over to the couch. His lip quivered slightly when he saw the heavy leather paddle. “Lower your trousers please.” I commanded when he stopped beside me.

It took him a moment to follow the order, however he didn’t argue. I reached up and pulled down his briefs myself and guided him across my lap. “I don’t think there is a need for any more discussion do you?” Chris shook his head and mumbled a quiet, “No”.

I raised my hand and began a long and hard spanking which I followed up with ten very firm swats using that heavy paddle. I have no doubt that my beloved will find it extremely hard to sit for the next few days but I also have no doubt that he will never repeat this infraction again.

I must confess that I never look forward to Christmas Eve when he stops being my Chris for one night and becomes the world’s Santa. Even though I’m proud of him and what he does it’s still hard for me to let him go, to let him do his dangerous magic. This year will be especially hard for me. So I’ll ask a favour of you gentle readers. When you look up to the sky on Christmas Eve, please say a little prayer for my beloved Brat that all 360 of him come home to me safe and sound. If you do that I will promise to keep letting him out of my arms for the stroke of Midnight of Dec 25th for the rest of time.

Thursday, December 4, 2008


Title: Sandman
Author: Jo
Characters: Adam & Brian and Eric & Sonny
Prompt: Snowman

“Hurry up will you,” Brian fretted. “You're so slow.”

“Calm down little boy,” Adam said calmly, “It's not as though the beach will run away.”

“Christmas and it's 30 degrees,” Brian grinned, “I don't understand why some people cook a full Christmas dinner with plum pudding and all,” he wrinkled his nose at Adam. “Just like your family the last three years,” he said. “I'm go glad this year we're having a Barbie at the beach with Eric and Sonny.”

Christmas day had started early in the household. Adam had been woken by an enthusiastic Brat at 6am and had firmly stated that he was not getting up that early, when they had gone to bed after 1am after going to the midnight service at the local church. “Grinch,” Brian had muttered, only to yelp after Adam swatted him. Brian settled down, he knew Adam was grouchy when short on sleep. Despite thinking he would never go to sleep again, Brian had to be shaken awake by Adam who had got up and made breakfast. “Fresh coffee and toast,” Brian said, he looked up “Is the kitchen still intact,” he teased Adam.
“Cheeky Brat,” Adam retorted “I'm not sure you deserve any presents this year.”

“I've been good,” Brian protested “Most of the time. Hell I've had to be, I'm a working person now.” He grimaced, it had been a hard transition for him and he still had fond dreams of when he'd been a carefree student. “At least I don't start back at work until January,” he said cheerfully “One of the few advantages of working for the Government. I'm not even on call. Let's take this down to the tree,” Brian said, as he bounced out of bed almost knocking his coffee over. “It's time to open the presents.”

Adam laughed as he watched his Brat walk out of the room, stark naked. His eyes softened he knew his Brat didn't have great memories of Christmas when he was in care. Early on, Brian had firmly told Adam, that socks, underwear or any type of clothing was not what he considered to be an acceptable presents.

Adam caught up with Brian and tossed him a robe. Brian stopped dead and rubbed his cheek on the soft material. “New?” he questioned hs blue eyes glowing.

Adam just grinned at him. “I saw you looking at it and feeling it on Saturday,” he explained “So I thought I'd give it to you on Christmas Day. I didn't wrap it I know how you feel about clothes as presents.” He was sad, he brought up the subject, when he saw Brian's eyes darken briefly. Brian's eyes only lightened again when they went into the front room and saw the tree, lights blazing, with gaily wrapped presents underneath.

They had great fun opening the presents, Brian thrilled at the Ipod and Adam misty eyed over the custom piece of jewellery. A necklace with their initials intertwined, which Brian casually mentioned he designed as a tatoo. until Adam made his displeasure known about permanent marks, on his Brat. Brian still had a tendancy to wince when he saw tatoo shows on tv.

The two men drove to the local beach and when there searched out Eric and Sonny. Brain and Sonny headed straight for the sea and started to horse around splasing each other and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Adam and Eric watched smiling, it was always great for them to see their Brat's fooling around together.

It wasn't long before the two younger men came out of the water and demanded to be fed. The BBQ had just heated up and the steak and onion sandwichws were quickly made. Eric also put the turkey on to cook for later on. They planned to stay for the huge bonfire that was always lit on Christmas night and the fireworks.

“Why have they roped off that part of the beach?” Brian asked casually.

“Oh that's where they sand sculpture,” Sonny replied “You know Sandmen instead of Snowmen.” Brian groaned loudly at this piece of wit. He rolled over and looked at his brother. “Remember when we were kids and made sandcastles” he said “What'd ya think about joining in. I reckon we could do an awesome sculpture.”

Sonny just looked at Brian and saw the twinkle in his eyes. He began to twinkle back and jumped up “Okay,” he replied, “let's show those losers how it's done.” Eric's head shot up and looked sternly at his Brat, who blushed. Sonny was very competitive and didn't like losing it was something he and Eric had an ongoing problem with. “Hey I remember the rules,” Sonny protested “It's just a bit of fun.”

"Plus $200 for first," Brian said quietly, as they walked over to a
pile of wet sand. After a bit of arguing they decided to work on a
knight in armour laid out on his bier. Looking around after about
half an hour, Brian decided they had no chance of winning first
place. Although their knight was good, there were obviously some very
professional sculpters there. He whispered something into Sonny's
ear. Sonny's grin was wicked, which Brian echoed.

If Adam and Eric had noticed those grins, they would have moved in
immediately but they were pre-occupied basting the turkey. They
turned quickly, along with the whole beach when they heard the
scream, and saw one of the lady judges faint. Brian and Sonny were
holding each other up, they were laughing so hard.

They stopped laughing, as they saw their Tops approaching. "Hi guys,"
Sonny said weakly as their Tops looked over their creation. The top
half was perfectly normal a knight in simple armour with his eyes
closed, it was the bottom half the two Tops couldn't believe. The
knight was naked, and his arms instead of lying across his chest,
were obviously masturbating a half erect penis.

"Brat," Adam whispered, into Brian's ear "You will apologise to the
judges now." Brian shivered at the threat implicit in Adam's voice.
He looked over at his partner in crime and saw Eric whispering into
Sonny's ear as well. The two men after being released by their Tops
walked over to the judges and apologised for distressing them, the
lady who had fainted in particular. They trailed back to their
Tops."We've been banned for life from beach sculpting," Sonny said,
kicking at the sand.

"That's the least of your problems," Eric growled, "Christmas Day or
not I'm going to spank you for this stunt. I should just take you
straight home."

"Same goes for you Brian," Adam's growl was a match to Eric's.

Adam and Eric looked around. The crowds were thining out and the
dinner crowd hadn't arrived yet. Almost at the same time they looked
at the public toilets. Eric looked at Adam and lifted his eyebrows.
Adam nodded, blushing slightly under his tan. This wouldn't be the
first time he'd been involved in a spanking in a public toilet, only
the last time he'd been the one getting the spanking. He'd been glad
the toilets were pretty well soundproofed.

Eric and Sonny were first. Adam and a nervous Brian leant against the
door casually guarding against interuption. Brian shuddered everytime
he heard Eric's hand land and Sonny yelp. Adam smiled grimly, it
sounded as though Eric hadn't lost his touch. Then the sounds
stopped, and there was a low voiced conversation between Eric and
Sonny. The two men came out, Brian tried to catch Sonnys tear
reddened eyes, but his brother was snuggling close to his lover.

Adam pulled Brian into the toilets, and headed straight for the
disabled toilet. "More room," Brian thought sourly. Adam sat on the
toilet and Brian who rarely lost his sense of humour choked slightly.

"Do we need to discuss exactly why we're in here?" Adam asked.
"No sir," Brian replied, losing any desire to laugh. "It was only a
joke," he protested.

"Not very funny," Adam replied, his voice stern.
"True." Brian sighed as he undid his shorts. He had nothing on
underneath them. He laid himself over Brian's lap and tried to relax.

To Brian it felt like the spanking was never going to finish. Adam
steadily set every spot on his butt on fire. He was sobbing deeply by
the time Adam felt he'd been punished enough. "All over," Adam said
and gently pulled his Brat's shorts back up. Brian clung to his Top
and cried into his shoulder.

For the rest of the Christmas Day, two very sore Brats stuck very
close to their Tops.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Sugar Plums

Title: Sugar Plums
Author: Jay
Characters: John and Richard
Prompt: Sugar Plums

My sexual orientation has never been an issue at work. I've never felt I had to hide the fact that I'm gay. But I've never seen the need to make any statement about my sexual preferences either. Oh, I'm sure some of my colleagues suspect. I may even have given them occasional cause for their suspicions. But I've never cared. It hasn't mattered; until now.

I've never before wanted to introduce any of my boyfriends to the other barristers in Chambers. I've always kept my personal and my professional life separate. But that was before I met Richard. I'm quite certain that he's the love of my life and we are hoping to enter into a civil partnership next year. That's not public knowledge yet. We haven't even announced it to our families, although I think my mother suspects. She is beginning to drop hints about springtime weddings and I swear she's already planning her outfit for the big day! But, as I say, there have been no official announcements yet. First of all I want to introduce Richard to my colleagues; I'm so proud of him and I want them all to meet my life partner.

My colleagues and I don't socialise much outside work hours. The one exception is the Christmas party for the barristers, clerks and secretarial staff. Everyone is welcome to bring their partner, although it's perfectly acceptable to come alone. I've always gone by myself and had a good time with a mixed group of singles and couples. It wasn't that I ever expected to encounter any prejudice against same sex relationships. We do a lot of equal opportunities work here in Chambers and I know that even the most conservative of my colleagues would have no problem with my bringing a boyfriend. No; it was just that there was never anyone so special that I wanted him to share every aspect of my life.

And then I met Richard. I was contributing to a forum on medical ethics at the local hospital and Dr Richard Evans was a fellow speaker. He caught my attention immediately with his striking blonde hair, bright blue eyes and handsome features. During the breaks he always seemed to be in the centre of a laughing, animated group. I managed to work it so that we sat on the same table at lunchtime and we discovered that we had shared interests and a similar sense of humour. I was fairly sure that the attraction between us was mutual and I was delighted when he accepted my casually worded invitation to meet up for lunch one day the following week. And the rest, as they say, is history.

My life has been transformed since Richard and I began living together. I'm happier now than I've ever been before; which isn't to say it has always been plain sailing. Richard is enchanting, exasperating, loving, professional, unpredictable, amusing, outrageous……I could go on but you get the picture, I'm sure. I like to think he is happier with me than he was managing his own chaotic lifestyle. I certainly try to ensure that he has the structure, stability and, yes, the discipline, to make the most of his talents. He is a splendid doctor, not just academically able but with an empathy for his patients which makes him hugely popular. I like to think I have addressed his disorganised habits and put a stop to the more outrageous exploits which were threatening to damage his reputation and his career prospects.

When he's on his best behaviour Richard is a joy to have around. Given his classic good looks, heads turn as soon as he enters a room and he can charm the birds out of the trees. He is at ease in most social situations and his wide general knowledge makes him an entertaining conversationalist. I am looking forward to introducing him to my colleagues and I'm sure the head of chambers and senior partners will like him.

Unless, that is, he takes against one of them for some reason. He can be somewhat unpredictable. He has a ready wit which sometimes descends to sarcasm when he gets into an argument. He has a low boredom threshold and his methods of livening things up are not always well received. The first time I put him over my knee for a bare bottom spanking, it was a real turning point in our relationship. Initially I thought he was planning to leave me but he finally decided not to reject my love; even if it has to be rather tough love at times.


"You have remembered it's our Chambers' Christmas Party on Friday, haven't you?"

"How can I forget? That's the third time you've reminded me."

"Well, I know how busy you are at the hospital, especially this time of year. Things slip your mind."

"Well, not this. I've made arrangements to have the night off and, barring a major emergency, I shouldn't be called in to work."

"And you've remembered that it's a fancy dress party?"

"Oh, no. You never told me that."

Yes, I did, Richard. You just weren't listening."

"So that means I've got to get more time off work to go and hire an outfit."

"No. I told you the plan is for us all to find things at home and improvise a bit. It will be more fun that way."

"Oh yes! If I remember rightly from university days that usually means doing something creative with a black plastic bin liner and bed sheets!"

"No it doesn't. We can plan something together: something complementary. Like Batman and Robin, for example."

"If you think I am going to meet your colleagues wearing a pair of tights with my knickers over the top, then you've got another think coming."

"I just said, `for example'. What would you like to wear?"

"I don't know. I haven't got time to think about it."

"Well, I thought I could do something with that old pair of jeans you said I should throw out. If I cut and shred the bottoms a bit I could put together a pirate outfit. White shirt, leather belt. I see they sell plastic cutlasses in the corner shop."

"And with a bit of eye shadow you could pass for Johnny Depp!"

"I look nothing like Johnny Depp. And as for eye shadow. I can't think of anything less likely to improve my chances of being offered a partnership than turning up to the office Christmas party in make up!"

"Oh, I see. So this has nothing to do with celebrating the festive season and everything to do with impressing the bosses. Are you sure you want to take your boyfriend? I might let you down."

"There's no need to react like that and, remember, I don't like being spoken to in that tone of voice. OK, there's always an element of office politics on these occasions but the partners will be impressed by you. I am looking forward to introducing you to my colleagues. I'm always proud of you and I know everyone will like you."

"Have you told your colleagues that you're bringing your partner to the party this year."

"No, why should I?"

"Isn't it going to be a bit of a surprise when you turn up with me?"

"Why should it be?"

"Oh, come on, John, don't be naïve. It's going to cause a stir if you've said nothing at all about your partner."

"Are you suggesting I should have `come out' at work? Pinned a notice to my back perhaps, saying `I am gay.'"

"Of course not. But you might at least have mentioned me at work. All my colleagues know about you. Are you sure you're not just a bit ashamed of me?"


Well, the conversation went downhill after that, as you might imagine. John Hamilton-Smythe is a tolerant man but it seems that accusing him of being ashamed of me falls into an ever expanding category entitled `unacceptable behaviour'. That's a category I try very hard to avoid these days, believe me. On this occasion I finished up spending a fair bit of time with my nose in the corner reconsidering my hasty words.

The truth is I'm getting more and more fed up about this party. When I agreed to go with John, I thought it would just be the usual office Christmas party: everyone the worse for wear; people taking pictures of their bums on the photocopier; quick snog in the stationery cupboard. You know the type of thing. Now I hear that the head of chambers will be there, and the senior partners. John keeps going on and on about making a good impression. I feel like he doesn't trust me to behave properly.

I don't need the constant nagging. He's even been on at me to get my hair cut before the party. As though that mattered if we're all going in fancy dress. If he wants to treat me like a child; well, maybe I'll just behave like a child. I don't even like fancy dress parties. I would never have agreed to go if I'd known about the fancy dress. He says he mentioned it right from the start, but I certainly don't remember. I feel like I've been manoeuvred into this situation and I don't like it.


I should have guessed that Richard would find it difficult to get away from the hospital early at this time of year. I had been looking forward to us getting ready for the party together and I was disappointed when he rang to say he would have to go straight there. He said he wouldn't have time to do much about fancy dress either so he would just wear scrubs and bring his stethoscope. I suppose a doctor can come dressed as a doctor to a fancy dress party!

I was standing chatting to my clerk when I saw a vision in red gauze get out of a taxi. It took me a moment to realise it wasn't one of the secretaries but my own dear Richard dressed as a fairy and carrying a wand. And this was no homemade outfit either but the best that could be hired from the professional outfitters.

Apart from the amazing costume, his hair had been styled to set off the star encrusted tiara in a style once favoured by Princess Diana. As he came closer I realised he had had the full wax treatment: legs, chest; even his armpits were hairless. And his make up was flawless. Blue eye shadow and false eyelashes, a hint of rouge and a touch of fairy glitter. Not overdone, no hint of the drag artiste; he looked stunning and I admitted that to myself just as my anger reached boiling point.

And then he turned around and, as if to ensure that there could be no doubt about his identity, there was the name in big letters attached to the back of his costume: Sugar Plum Fairy.

The whole room went silent as he made his entrance and introduced himself to the head of chambers and his wife. I heard him making it quite clear that he was John Hamilton-Smythe's partner. To give my boss his due, after an initial pause to recover from his astonishment, he began conversing with Richard and that set the tone for the evening. Richard lit up the room, in every sense; he was the sensation of the party and everyone took to him. He was charming, erudite, witty, relaxed and friendly. Everyone fell under his fairy spell; except me. He knew it and kept his distance for most of the evening. But I managed to get him on his own briefly and the message was simple: wait till I get you home my lad!


Lying in bed next to John I could feel his body vibrate with anger.

"A full body wax! I don't believe it!"

"Not quite full body," I ventured.

Immediately his hand plunged down the front of my pyjamas and his fingers buried themselves in my remaining body hair. I've always wondered about the expression `being grabbed by the short and curlies'. Now I know what that feels like. I also knew that some very sensitive tissue lay in the immediate vicinity of John's clutching hand. My medical training had at least taught me that. I kept very still; I didn't want to do anything to annoy him further.

"But I behaved just as you asked me to. I spoke to everyone. I was polite. I didn't drink too much. I tried to make a good impression."

"As the Sugar Plum Fairy! What possessed you to come dressed like that? And what do you think the head of chambers made of the fact that you had the word `fairy' pinned to the back of your costume!"

"He liked me, John. His wife has invited us both to spend a weekend with them in the New Year. She asked me to tell you that they would be in contact after Christmas to fix the date."

Well that piece of news shut him up. In fact, he couldn't have got a better outcome if he'd planned it himself. After that there wasn't really anything else he could do. As I've said, John is generally a tolerant man and always a fair one. I hadn't broken any of his rules. True, I set out to provoke him, to punish him really for being such a pain about the party. I think he knows it but I'm never going to admit to it. So honours even on that one then; `fifteen all' as they say down the tennis club.


On Christmas morning we both came downstairs early to open our gifts before going over to my mother's for a late lunch. We sat on the floor beside our Christmas tree and exchanged gifts. We're both in well paid jobs and so there were the luxury items we like to get for each other but also the little fun presents that make us laugh. Best of all perhaps are the presents we buy because we've picked up on small clues throughout the year: the book which I'd wanted to read and never got round to ordering, the gadget Richard played with in shops and put down regretfully. All of them real tokens of love and affection.

Both of us seemed to be saving up one present to give last of all. I let Richard go first. He handed his gift over with a slight look of uncertainty. As I started to undo his careful wrapping he began to babble, always a sign of nerves. He uttered disjointed phrases like `just a joke', `bought them for your mother really', `we can take them over at lunchtime' and then lapsed into silence as I held up a box of sugar plums.

"Very nice, Richard, and very seasonal. I will enjoy these all myself, one at a time."

I took one of the candied fruits from the box and bit into it very slowly while looking him straight in the eye. I didn't offer him one and he knew better than to ask. In fact he was looking distinctly apprehensive under my gaze. Then I handed him my present and I could have sworn his hands shook slightly as he bent to undo the ribbon. There was an audible gasp when he opened the box and then lifted out the beautifully crafted object as though he feared it might bite. I don't know whether he had ever seen one close up before. I know I hadn't. I think they're an American invention but you can order anything on the internet these days. This paddle was over a foot long, manufactured in thick leather with a reinforced handle.

"Come on then my little Sugar Plum Fairy. Let's try it out."

My boy isn't stupid. He may have thought he'd got away with his antics at my office Christmas party but I could tell from the expression on his face that he knew payback time had arrived. I turned on the Christmas tree lights and the reading lamps and then pulled the curtains. I gave Richard just one word of command: strip. I accompanied the order with a look that warned him not to argue. Give him his due, he did it very prettily. Nothing lewd but I definitely got the Fully Monty performance, which was a special treat on Christmas morning. I did notice, though, that he kept a wary eye on the holly branches with which he had insisted on decorating the room.

Once he was totally naked I told him to bend over the arm of the settee. His bright blonde head bent onto his folded arms which he rested on the seat cushions. I inserted the paddle between his thighs and encouraged him to spread his legs wider. I then stood behind him and admired the view as I watched his buttocks clench in nervous anticipation. Did I mention my lover's handsome features? I did. Well, his arse is one of his very best features: plump and beautifully rounded like……turkey breasts. Not the best simile perhaps but seasonal!

I had no intention of spoiling Richard's Christmas morning with a serious spanking but I didn't see any need to tell him that at the outset. My plan was to just warm his buttocks and give him something to think about while he was sitting at my mother's dinner table later in the day. I began with just light taps, but the implement made a very satisfying slap against bare skin and I was tempted to put a bit more swing into my arm. Soon Richard began to squirm and make little mewling noises in his throat which just encouraged me to do more. When he finally flung a hand behind to try and intercept the paddle, his buttocks were glowing red, well like two sugar plums sitting on a white plate. I grasped his wrist and dealt out two final swats as hard as I could, one on each cheek.

"That's just to be going on with, my little Sugar Plum Fairy. I'll give you a proper seeing to when we get back here tonight."

"Oh, yes, please, John," he whispered.