Nick's Naughty Elf. Georgia St. Claire

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      Nick shook his head. “If I could hear her from here, I’m positive everyone in line could as well. I had to make sure that the children knew in no uncertain terms that bad language is not acceptable. I spoke with each family present to confirm that the children weren’t upset. They all accepted it pretty calmly and most of the parents thanked me for teaching the lesson. No one actually saw the spanking, just heard it and I never admitted that a spanking occurred. I deflected anyone who asked by saying it was a private matter with Elf Marcie. Do you think I should meet with the press and give an official statement as Santa or should I change back into my business suit and meet with them as the acting store CEO? Marcie’s still here, right? I don’t want her talking to them until I’ve met with her, we need to present a united front.”

      “I wish Mr. Nickson were here; I don’t feel like I should be making this decision. You’re the big boss while he’s gone. You decide.”

      Nick clapped the nervous man on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I have no problem accepting full responsibility for handling this. I just wanted to know what your thoughts are.”

      Mr. Strathmore straightened, taking on an aura of self-importance. “Oh. Well, I can see pros and cons for both sides. On the one hand, it might be good for Santa to explain himself, but then it might be bad. On the other hand, it might be good for Nickson’s Department Store to issue an official statement, but then it might be better to distance the company from what Santa did.”

      Nick nodded sagely. “And that’s why you are where you are today, Thomas.” Night manager and never going to advance any further, he thought to himself. “Thanks for your input. I’ll meet with them tonight as Santa and tomorrow as the CEO. Would you please make sure that everyone knows that I am the only one speaking with the press? And I’m certain that no one will have a problem keeping Santa’s alternate identity secret, right?” The other man nodded. “I’m going to speak with Marcie now and then you can send in the press. Santa will meet with them right here.”

      Marcie watched Mr. Strathmore scurry past the gingerbread house and shook her head at the sight, giggling. She had never believed that people really scurried like authors sometimes said in books, until she started working at Nickson’s and saw the night manager in action. Since the decorative little building was used for storage and technical work that wasn’t very festive, the windows were filled with an opaque material that prevented anyone from seeing inside, and unfortunately, from seeing out. Instead, there were strategically placed peepholes disguised in the ornate gingerbread trim to allow the employees inside the building to monitor what was happening outside. She turned back to the peephole to see if Nick had left yet. She wasn’t eager to run into him again tonight and had decided to remain out of sight until the coast was clear. He wasn’t in the limited field of vision and she shifted her position to try to see from a different angle.

      “Looking for me?” He was behind her inside the hut.

      She squealed as she jumped and turned to face him, her hands automatically reaching back to cover her bottom. How had he opened the door and come in without her hearing him? “Um, I was just getting everything ready for tomorrow. That’s me, dedicated employee, always putting in the extra effort to make things perfect.” She patted the table of supplies. “I guess everything is good, I should head home now. See you tomorrow.” She tried to inch past him, but he didn’t give her enough space, his large body seeming to fill the small room.

      “Marcie, I’ve taught you the lesson about your language and now you have a clean slate. As long as you remember that lesson, you have nothing to fear from me. Now I want you to tell me what you plan to say to the press and the public when they ask you about tonight.”

      She looked up at Santa. Somehow, when he put on the suit, Nick truly became Santa. In previous years when Mr. Nickson had put on the suit, you still knew it was Mr. Nickson, not Santa, his mannerisms, his voice, gave him away. But when Nick put on the Santa suit, he was different. He was Santa; nothing remained of Nick, the mannerisms, and voice, even his facial features, behind the beard seemed changed. “Um, do I have to talk to them?”

      He shook his head. “No. You are under no obligation to speak with them; you can say ‘no comment’. But they aren’t likely to leave you alone until you do speak with them, so it’s probably best if you think carefully about what you want to say ahead of time instead of speaking off the cuff when you can’t take the harassment anymore.”

      “What do you want me to say?”

      Nick decided to sit on the edge of the table so that he didn’t tower quite so high above the diminutive woman. “Why don’t I tell you what I’ve said to the people who were here and you can see if it helps you at all?” She nodded at him, grateful that she didn’t have to strain her neck looking so high up. “First of all, no one saw me spank you. They heard you swearing, they saw and heard my reaction up to the point that I closed the door and then they heard sounds that they believe was a spanking. All I said was that I dealt with your naughty behavior. When people asked point blank if I spanked you, I said that it was a private matter with you; suggesting that they wouldn’t like everyone to know what happened if they had been in your position.”

      She smiled. “Thank you.”

      Nick smiled back. “You’re welcome. Good manners will take you far, little elf. Now, tell me what happened when you handed them their photo greeting cards. Did they mention the spanking?” She blushed and he knew that his heart was in danger. She was just so darned cute. He chuckled. “If you reacted like that, you’ve confirmed everyone’s suspicions. But go ahead and tell me.”

      “I didn’t confirm anything with words; I can’t help it if I blush easily, it’s my fair skin. Most people were embarrassed and wouldn’t meet my eyes. A couple mumbled something about being sorry. One asked if it hurt; but I didn’t have to respond because her son ran off and she had to chase him. Two told me I deserved what I got; but they said it quickly as they took the card and left without waiting for me to say anything.”

      “Hmm, I like that phrase. ‘Getting what you deserve’ is ambiguous while admitting that you were wrong to swear. I hope you do plan to admit that swearing is wrong?” She bit her lip, lowered her head and nodded. There was that cuteness factor again. Nick was surprised to feel his cock reacting. He had never had a sexual response while wearing the suit before; he hadn’t even thought it was possible. He’d have to ask his cousins about it. “Good girl. We want to send the right message to all the children out there; bad language is unacceptable. Santa doesn’t allow his elves to swear. Exactly what Santa does about it, doesn’t need to be clarified. I’m about to meet with the press tonight as Santa. Tomorrow as the acting store CEO, while Mr. Nickson is out on sick leave, I will give an official statement. Why don’t you stay in here and watch what happens tonight. Then, if we need to and you are agreeable, we can trot you out tomorrow, or later, in civilian clothes. You’ll have seen how the press is acting and you’ll have a better idea of what to expect. What do you think?”

      “I think you’re right, Santa, I mean Nick.” She blushed again and wouldn’t raise her eyes.

      He patted her shoulder in a paternal manner. “You were right the first time. When I’m dressed like this, I am Santa and you should call me that. Never, ever think of me out of character; we don’t want to chance damaging anyone’s beliefs. Now, I want you to stay in here until I come as Nick to get you and then I’ll take you home to make sure the press doesn’t harass you. Remember to keep quiet.” He uncoiled as he stood up from the table, his presence, once again, seeming to fill the space and he left, closing the door firmly behind him.

      Santa waited patiently on his winter throne while the cameras and microphones were set up. A couple of the print reporters tried to ask СКАЧАТЬ