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#Post#: 2463--------------------------------------------------
22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: Jack Date: December 22, 2017, 5:02 pm
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[center]by Kat[/center]
Ellen O’Connor looked doubtful as she put on her coat, even
though she and her husband Robert had settled the matter hours
earlier when their babysitter had called to say she had the flu
and couldn’t make it. The Christmas Eve party at the home of
Robert’s boss was too important to miss, so they had agreed that
Freddy could look after his younger brother, Billy. Freddy was
responsible for a twelve-year-old, and Billy was young enough to
manipulate into cooperation with the mere mention of Santa.
Ellen went over her instructions for Freddy for the third time:
“See to it that Billy is in bed by 8.30, honey. We’ll be very
late, so you go to bed at a decent hour too. I don’t want to
find you awake when I get home. Make sure Billy brushes his
teeth and don’t forget to leave out Santa’s snack and the
reindeer treats. You’ve got the Burtons’ phone number if you
need us….”
“Come on, Ellen. He knows what to do.”
Left alone with Billy, Freddy had no problems. Billy went to bed
without a fuss, though he was too excited to sleep until Freddy
had read The Night Before Christmas twice and How the Grinch
Stole Christmas once. Freddy took himself to bed at 10.
Freddy O’Connor was not a believer. He’d stopped believing when
he was nine, though he’d gone along with his parents for another
year. Now, however, he was part of the Santa conspiracy, weaving
the magic for Billy. Nevertheless, when the sound of someone
rustling around downstairs on Christmas Eve woke him, his first
thought was, “Santa!” He crept out of bed and shivered as his
feet hit the bare wood floor. Hugging himself and rubbing his
arms, he tiptoed out of his room towards the stairs. The cold
was sobering. By the time he saw the figure in the familiar red
suit, he’d had his second thought: “This is ridiculous!”
Nevertheless, someone in a Santa suit was busying himself in the
O’Connor living room.
Freddy shook his head and arrived at his third thought: “Jeeze,
Dad, how corny! They must have come home early so Dad could play
Santa.” He thought about waking Billy so that Dad’s efforts
wouldn’t go to waste; but before he could make up his mind,
‘Santa’ must have realized someone was watching him. He looked
towards the stairs and caught Freddy’s eye. Freddy gasped as he
realized the man in the Santa suit was not his dad.
‘Santa’ beckoned for Freddy to come towards him. Freddy
hesitated only a moment before deciding he’d better go. He
didn’t want to put Billy in danger. He made his way towards the
stranger, whose scrutinizing gaze did nothing to evoke the
“right jolly old elf” of the Clement Moore poem.
Playing dumb, Freddy whispered, “Santa?”
‘Santa’ smirked. “That’s right kid – and you’re not supposed to
be out of bed. I guess I’ll have to take back all your
presents.”
Freddy thought to himself that ‘Santa’ had already made a pretty
good start of taking not only the presents but also a few other
valuables. Instead of pointing this out, he said,
“Sorry, Santa, I’ll go right back to bed.”
Santa grabbed his arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. I think I’ll handle
this a different way. You’re a bad boy, so I’ll just give you a
spanking.”
Freddy’s hands reached around to protect the target. “But,
Santa, if you do that, you’ll wake everyone else up.”
Santa snorted. “Make all the noise you want. I know your parents
are gone. I’ve been casing this house. I saw ‘em go out, all
dressed up. Too bad for you that you didn’t stay in bed, you
little brat. And you can drop the ‘Santa’ bullshit. I wasn’t
born yesterday.”
Freddy thought about screaming to Billy to call 911, but he was
none too sure that a frightened Billy, aroused by screaming,
would react well. Freddy decided not to resist. It would be
better to let this asshole do what he wanted and then hope he
went away.
‘Santa’ pulled Freddy towards the sofa, sat down, hauled the boy
over his lap, and pulled down Freddy’s pajama bottoms.
The first slap landed with a loud splat on Freddy’s left cheek.
Though Freddy was cold, his bottom felt as though it had caught
fire. He buried his head in the sofa, determined to be quiet.
“You little rich brats are spoiled rotten … SPLAT… This is what
you deserve … SPLAT … not a bunch of presents … SPLAT….”
‘Santa’ spanked Freddy hard, punctuating his smacks with a
diatribe against spoiled kids.
“Worked down at that mall … SPLAT … listening to your whining …
SPLAT … or the smart ass comments … SPLAT … I’ve finally got a
chance to wear one of you out … SPLAT … and I’m going to make
the make the most of it … SPLAT….”
Freddy tried not to cry, but ‘Santa’ was really hurting him and
the spanking went on and on. Freddy’s dad spanked him sometimes,
but not this hard or this long. The tears came despite Freddy’s
best efforts to hold them back.
‘Santa’ finally stopped, perhaps realizing that he was wasting
time. He pulled Freddy to his feet and then set about tying him
to a kitchen chair and stuffing a bandana in his mouth. Freddy
sat in misery on the hard wooden seat and cried some more as he
watched the burglar finish bagging up and carrying away the
O’Connors’ Christmas presents.
As ‘Santa’ exited the O’Connor house with his loot, headlights
and spotlights blinded him. A baritone voice ordered him to drop
the bag and put his hands on his head. Then a policeman came
into the house and untied Freddy.
“You all right, kid? Did he hurt you?”
Freddy whimpered, “Um, not too much. He… well… he spanked me.
How did you know to come here?”
The cop shrugged. “Some nut called 911 and said this house was
being ripped off and a kid was in danger.” The cop rolled his
eyes. “Identified himself as Santa Claus. Guess he wanted to be
anonymous. Odd thing, though – we couldn’t locate the source of
the call.”
Freddy’s parents came home and there was a lot of fuss. The cops
asked him over and over what Santa had done to him, which was
damned embarrassing. But at last they left and Ellen O’Connor
tucked Freddy back into bed, where he chose to lie on his
stomach. Miraculously, Billy had slept through everything. When
Freddy finally woke up the next day, he wondered if he’d dreamed
it all. However, the wince of pain when he rolled onto his back
assured him his misadventure was real.
The Christmas morning scene gave few hints of the drama on
Christmas Eve. A few packages were a bit the worse for wear, but
otherwise, all seemed normal. Freddy was surprised to find a
fluffy cushion under the tree for him, though under the
circumstances, it was a welcome gift. The tag only said, ‘From
Santa’.
Freddy sat on his cushion at breakfast and wondered about the
911 call and the strange gift. At twelve, he was too old to be a
believer, but that morning he decided his status was agnostic.
#Post#: 2468--------------------------------------------------
Re: 22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: Zyngaru Date: December 22, 2017, 6:39 pm
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Enjoyable. I like the twist at the end. One never can be too
sure can one? ;D
#Post#: 2474--------------------------------------------------
Re: 22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: Jack Date: December 23, 2017, 4:08 am
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Thanks much for a fun story and a different take.
#Post#: 2483--------------------------------------------------
Re: 22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: David M. Katz Date: December 23, 2017, 4:52 pm
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Great story, Kat!
Loved it.
Merry Christmas.
#Post#: 2590--------------------------------------------------
Re: 22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: kalico Date: December 28, 2017, 5:40 pm
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Great story kat!
Hugs kal
#Post#: 13764--------------------------------------------------
Re: 22 December 2017 - A Visit from Bad Santa by Kat
By: Adric Date: July 9, 2019, 3:56 pm
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Thanks for the cute story, Kat. :)
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