Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
I smirked around a mouthful of chips.
“Yes, Master.” Cam blushed and climbed over a few sets of legs until he reached Santa. “Thank you, Santa. And thank you very much, Mr. West.” He gave Greer a quick kiss and a hug before he hurried back to his Owner.
I already knew Cam was getting a personalized notebook that said My Owner’s Favorite Recipes and a pair of funny socks, which was an inside joke between the two, so I kept my attention on Santa.
“Next up is Archie!” Greer declared. “Do we have an Archie here? It says Merry Christmas, sweet Archie, from Lucian.”
Archie cleared his throat and grinned a little. “That’s me, Sir.”
Santa eyed his slave up and down. “You do look sweet. Here you go, pet.”
After Archie came Franklin from KC, Gael from Sloan—saving that one for later—and Macklin from Jack. Which was great and all, but those Doms weren’t in the habit of pulling pranks. KC was obviously the exception, but only on those he had that dynamic with. During their sweet, brat-less gift exchange, I finished my drink, ate my body weight in cheese and chips, and watched Noa finish his Daddy off with his mouth.
Then it was time to tune in again when Corey was summoned.
“Ho, ho, ho, it’s time to set the record straight,” Santa read from the label. “To Corey from Reese.”
This oughta be good.
Corey was visibly suspicious on his way over. Reese merely smirked and held up his drink.
“Oh dear,” Archie lamented. “I think we’ve reached one of your random searches, Santa.”
“What!” Corey balked.
“Now, now—this is just to make sure you’re not in possession of any contraband.” Santa waved over his boy. “Drop yo drawers while I do a search. You can open your gift in the meantime.”
I laughed. This was fun.
“Random search, my ass!” Corey yelled.
“Funny you should mention—we will actually start with your ass, son.” Greer tugged the boy down over his lap and pulled down his pants, to Corey’s feeble protest. “Shush. Open your gift from the nice Dom.”
Stunning. I poured myself a new drink and watched as Santa forced a small butt plug up Corey’s little asshole. The boy’s complaints made the Sadist in me happy as a pig in shit. And it made me glance over at Luke, only to find him smirking at me. Corey wasn’t the only one Greer was gonna search. This morning, we’d arranged for a surprise for Kit.
“Why do you hate lube, motherfucker?” Corey groaned.
“Corey,” Sloan chastised. “That’s no way to speak to Santa. Open your gift now.”
The plug wasn’t enough. Once it was inserted, Greer gripped his short-strand flogger and started lashing Corey’s butt cheeks, to which he yelped and cried out. That sweet ass was already red from the spanking, so I reckoned it wasn’t too pleasurable to be flogged there now too. But he did manage to open his gift at the same time, and we all cracked up at the avalanche of Mclean House merchandise tumbling out from a box. Mclean House coasters, pajamas, bath towels, sleeve for a laptop, stickers, and water bottles.
“Why are the jammies so soft?” Corey cried out. “I’m gonna wanna wear them, for fuck’s sake!”
I laughed even harder.
“You gotta resist!” Noa demanded. “Say it with me, Corey! House. Mclean. House Mclean!”
“Be strong!” Kit cheered. “House Mclean, House Mclean!”
Oh, we best find a way to shut your mouth, little darlin’.
Kingsley about pissed himself laughing when Tate opened his gift from River to reveal a collection of ball gags, duct tape, ear plugs specifically for Kingsley to use, balled-up socks, a remote with a single mute button—also for Kingsley—and gumballs so big you couldn’t speak when you chewed on one.
“I’m sensing a theme…” Tate drawled. “I don’t fucking talk too much!”
“You all talk too much,” River replied into his drink.
“Aw, we have so much to play with when we get home, baby.” Kingsley hugged Tate to him and peered into the goodie bag. “This is perfect.”
Tate huffed.
And then we had Noa. He narrowed his eyes at me and joined Santa.
“Merry Christmas to a wonderful little mutt,” Santa read. “To Noa from Colt.”
“Thank you, Sadisty Sirs.” Noa grabbed the box, kissed Santa on the cheek, and returned to his seat. “Let’s see how nice Colt is.”
“I’m always nice.” I smiled. “Macklin agrees with me.”
“Jeesh, nice spot you just put me in, Mr. Nice Guy,” he mumbled.
I ducked my head and nipped at his neck.
Santa moved on right away, this time a gift for Shay from Kingsley.
“Oh my God.” Noa started giggling at his first glance inside the box. Soon he was pulling out a leash, a collar, a water bowl, and a couple chew toys.
“Excellent.” KC was happy. “We’ll see how you enjoy fetching.”
“Oh no,” Noa groaned. “I’m gonna get so mad, Daddy!”
“I know.”
Noa tried to scowl at me, but he couldn’t really hold it. “Okay, it’s possible I love the gift. Thank you, Sir.”