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It seemed like a good idea at the time, taking her kids to the Mall for the annual Christmas photos with Santa. Her husband was out of town and it would give Claire a chance to kill a few hours. Most of the Christmas shopping had been done, the tree was up and decorated, and she only had a few more presents to wrap. And who knows, maybe she would get lucky and find the Santa of her dreams.

It was early afternoon and the Mall wasn't too crowded. The line of kids waiting to get their pictures taken with Santa was short, less than a five minute wait. But it was enough time for her older son to announce that he wouldn't stand in line, and he definitely wouldn't have his picture taken with Santa, "not this year, not ever again."

Her younger child still semi-believed in Old Saint Nick, and was having great fun standing in line with the other kids, talking about all the presents he expected.

Finally it was their turn. The little boy climbed on Santa's lap, Santa asked if her son had been naughty or nice, made the required minute of kid talk about presents wished for, and the photographer took the pictures, two poses to choose from.

Claire's son climbed down and they were about to leave when Santa asked if she would like to have her picture taken.

"I hadn't … hadn't thought about it," Claire started to stammer. This wasn't like her, being at a loss for words.

"It will only take a minute, and it will be something to show your friends at the Christmas party."

Her younger son ran over to his older brother, as Claire slowly walked the few steps to the Santa set. Both her sons started to giggle as Claire sat on Santa's lap and she couldn't help blushed a bright shade of red.

"And what is your name, little girl?" Santa began with the usual opening.

"Claire."

"And how old is Claire?"

"Do I have to tell Santa?"

"If you don't, Santa will be very angry."

Claire could see that under the padding of the bright red suit, Santa looked pretty fit and trim. And he had a short gray beard under the white fluff required of all professional Mall Santas.

"Does this mean I won't get any Christmas present? Or you'll only leave me coal in my Christmas stocking?"

As they talked, Claire could feel one of Santa's hands on the underside of her breast. Somehow he had worked his hand into the opening of her short leather jacket, and was gently teasing her just below the nipple.

"Sometimes bad little girls get something worse than coal. Sometimes something very bad happens to them."

"Like what?" Claire challenged him.

"Sometimes Santa takes them away from their parents. Sometimes he takes them to the North Pole in his sleigh. And if they don't learn to behave he locks them in a cage and spanks them every day, until they learn to do the things Santa enjoys."

Claire's nipple was rock hard, from Santa's caress, and from the thought of being put in a cage, of being punished and abused by Santa.

"Smile for the camera," Santa said as he squeezed her nipple through her tight sweater. She kissed him on the cheek for the second photo, as he squeezed her nipple even harder.

After the kiss, Claire started to pull away from Santa, but he wouldn't let go of her left nipple. His right hand was still inside of her jacket, and she hoped it wouldn't be too obvious in the photo that Santa was copping a feel. And to make matters worse, Santa had taken a firm grip on one of her meaty ass cheeks with his left hand. Claire was starting to panic.

"Naughty little girls sometimes need that," Santa said with a smile.

"Need what?" Claire asked.

"A firm hand, on their pretty little titties, or on their sexy young ass."

Claire's shapely boobs were definitely not little, and she definitely was not young, but she did have a very sexy ass.

"Do you really think my ass is sexy?" Claire asked in her best little girl voice.

"Sexy, and very fuckable," Santa whispered softly, as he started to probe the crack of her ass with his left hand. At the same time, as she sat there on Santa's knee, Claire couldn't help squirming, just thinking about getting fucked for the first time in her virgin ass.

"But what if I was very nice to Santa? If I did everything Santa wanted?"

"Then maybe he would only spank you once or twice a week, to remind you who you were."

"You'd be one of Santa's reindeers – one of his very special reindeers."

Santa's probing finger had found the pucker of her asshole though the fabric of her fitted trousers and the string of her thong offered no protection at all. Her husband had never shown much interest in her asshole, had never given her this much anal attention, in spite of the years of hints and suggestions.

"Please, Santa, you're making me feel all funny inside," Claire whispered in this bearded man's ear, as he continued to tease the pucker of her asshole. She wanted to bite him, or lick his neck, but her kids were only 10 or 12 feet away, watching her squirm as she perched on Santa's knee.

"When I deliver your Christmas photos, we'll see if you really deserve to be one of Santa's specially reindeer. And then we'll see how well you can pull Santa's sleigh."

-To Be Continued

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