A Song for the Holidays, by Dana Kane

I laid them all out on the table, all twelve of them, just before he arrived; I smoothed the quilt on the bed, and closed the window blinds tight. It was Christmas in New York City, but I had no time to stare out the window at the bustle of downtown shoppers below. 
Out came the wrist and ankle restraints, and the lengths of silk rope – within reach at the foot of the bed – and on went my Santa hat, just as the doorbell rang.


My smile was wide when I opened the door, both because I was happy to see him and because he had no idea what he was in for tonight. None the wiser, he walked right in and handed me his coat. Closing the door behind him, I sealed his fate.


As he followed me down the hall toward the bedroom, I decided that I was in no mood for small talk – we would get straight to tonight’s performance. I lead him directly to the table and instructed him to place the twelve spanking implements in order, from least painful to most. When he said that he wasn’t familiar with some of the implements and joked about that changing very soon by the look of things, I told him to take his best guess…and to hurry along.


When he finished, I asked him to strip completely and lie face-down on the bed. He complied, still smiling, but certainly wondering why we weren’t starting with a warm-up and some nice over-the-knee time. His smile wavered only briefly when I picked up the leather restraints and began buckling them around his wrists and ankles, attaching them with the silk ropes to the bed’s four corners. 


Once he was completely restrained, I explained to him that his holiday gift this year would be a song. As a fellow music lover, I knew that he would appreciate the sentiment, if not the application. The song would be The Twelve Days of Christmas, naturally, and there was nothing he could do about it now that he was so nicely tied down. 


We’d be beginning with the implement he’d chosen as ‘most painful’ and working our way down the line, so I sang to him gently…


“On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve strokes with a brand-new leather tawse..”


..and proceeded to unload twelve hard, intense strokes of a three-tailed leather strap that would light up even the most seasoned spanko.


“Merry Christmas, dear.” I whispered as he wimpered.


“But I’m Jewish..” he said.


“That’s no excuse, dear. Let’s move on..
..on the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me – eleven swats with a big, red rubber loop.” I crooned lovingly, while he writhed about in his ropes.


“On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..ten strokes with a heavy wood paddle…
Nine whippy cane strokes, eight acrylic smacks, seven cane loop stingers, six hairbrush paddlings,
FIVE WOO-DEN SPOONS!…”


“But Hannukah has only eight days. We could stop now, couldn’t we? Please?” he tried.
“What, you don’t appreciate my singing? I worked hard on this song. You should just lie there and enjoy it. Unless you’d like me to start all over at the beginning again…?”


“No, no! I’m sorry. Please, finish the song. It’s very nice.” he panted.


“That’s better. Now, where was I? Oh yes..


..four short canes, three rubber smacks (“Hold still!”), two spanking buddies, 
and one with a little balsa ruler!”


I took a stage appropriate bow while he caught his breath, then quickly released him from his restraints. “That was great!” he said, much happier about the whole thing now that it was over, “That leather tawse was really bad – can I have a glass of water?”


“Water? You think we’re finished here? Oh no, dear, we are nowhere near finished.” I laughed as he realized that, even though I wouldn’t be singing anymore (gratefully), the spanking had just begun.


“Now come and stretch yourself across my lap so I can give you a spanking..”

– Dana