Ana’s Advent Calendar, Day 20: Elf Pizelle’s Very Bad Day


UPDATE: Okay, okay. I get it! You need more time to write your elf stories. I will give you one additional day to add your elf story below. You have until midnight EST on Sunday the 21st. Happy? 😀

“Ow, Mrs. Claus!” Elf Pizelle yowled as she clutched the rungs of sturdy wooden chair she hated more than anything. “I didn’t…stop it!”

Mrs. Claus hauled Pizelle further across her lap, nearly sending the elf into a faceplant on the floor. She shook out her hand before applying the enormous wooden spoon to the seat of Pizelle’s bright green trousers. “An entire plate of my best sugar cookies! I’ve a good mind to call all the elves in to see how I deal with theft. Do you know how much butter costs these days? Not to mention the lost time and labor.”

Pizelle tried to listen to Mrs. Claus’ lecture, but the wooden spoon commanded her full attention. “If you’d listen to why I took them,” she begged.

“That will give the cookies back?” Mrs. Claus flipped up Pizelle’s cranberry-edged tunic and emphasized each word with a solid smack. “You. Stole. My. Cookies.”

“Ow!” Tears streamed down Pizelle’s cheeks, and her legs scissored in desperation. “Okay. I’m sorry. It was wrong! Can I just tell you why I did it?”

Mrs. Claus paused. “Do you remember what these delaying tactics got you last time?”

Pizelle shuddered. The threat of a second spanking at bedtime from Santa, that’s what it had gotten her. And Santa, already stressed with last-minute preparations, had asked Mrs. Claus to perform the honors instead. Mrs. Claus was not pleased at having to give the second spanking herself, and she had used the cane. In public, in front of the entire elf population of the North Pole. Pizelle’s bottom recovered long before her pride did, and none of the elves had let her live it down.

“I was wrong,” Pizelle admitted. “I shouldn’t have tattled on Olive then, but this time I had a good reason. I promise. Just let me tell you. If you don’t think it’s a good reason, I’ll take the rest of my punishment without any fuss.” She crossed her fingers. She couldn’t make good on that promise, at least not with Mrs. Claus this angry, but it was worth a try.

Mrs. Claus’ answer came in a rapid fire of swats, each one causing Pizelle to nearly break resolve. She gritted her teeth but managed not to let out more than a few muffled cries. After a pause, the stern voice resumed.


Pizelle started to slide off Mrs. Claus’ lap, but another swat stopped her. She blushed, swallowing her tears and shame, and fumbled for words. How could she talk with her face smushed into Mrs. Claus’ ample red skirt and ruffled apron?

“Leila was upset–”

“Louder!” Mrs. Claus barked.

Pizelle turned her head, sighed, and began again. “Leila was upset, and–”

“Leila who?”

“Leila Feran. Ma’am.”

Mrs. Claus shifted position, and Pizelle cringed. No retribution followed, however. “Leila Feran who was on my naughty list until two weeks ago because she still hasn’t learned to control her temper?”

“Yes ma’am.” Pizelle suppressed a sigh of relief. She’d gotten this far. Maybe Mrs. Claus would let her finish. “Carene had promised to spend Christmas in New York, even though she hated the crowds and noise, and Leila had spent weeks preparing. Then Carene had to cancel because of a teachers’ strike and her school district threatening to fire everyone, and Leila…”

Mrs. Claus’ tone softened. “Go on.”

“You can’t!” Leila pleaded when Carene phoned with the news. “I’ve got tickets for the Met, and I was going to take you on a carriage ride in Central Park.”

“I’m sorry,” came the answer. Carene hated disappointing her hotheaded partner. “We have to stand by in case the administration calls for more talks. I’ll go out as soon as the strike’s over.”

“When will that be?” Good old Leila. In the past, she would have erupted at not getting her way. Carene could hear her fighting for control. “It’s the fifteenth today. I’ll switch our tickets from tonight until Christmas Eve. You’ll be here by then, won’t you?”

“I can’t promise,” Carene began, but Leila’s newfound calmness got the better of her.

“You can do it if you try,” Leila said, and against all better judgment Carene agreed.

“Yes, darling.”

“You better,” Leila warned.

“Or?” Carene hugged herself, wishing it were Leila’s delicate violinist hands entangled in her hair.

“Or I’ll take that paddle of yours and…”

“Leila!” Carene laughed, warmed all over. “That’s my job!” Christmas Eve couldn’t come soon enough.

Pizelle licked her lips. She wasn’t sure whether she should continue. The next part might get Leila back on the naughty list, despite all of Pizelle’s trouble…and that would mean incurring Mrs. Claus’ wrath for nothing.

“Leila, uh…she was kind of upset.”


“Ow!” Pizelle pitched forward and had to steady herself with a hand to the floor.

“Fibbing will get you extra.”

“I’m not–OW!” Pizelle writhed as Mrs. Claus set to correcting the latest decoration of the truth. “Okay! I’ll tell the rest of the story.” Under her breath, she added, “For a grant of transactional immunity.”

SMACK! “That’s enough Good Wife reruns for you. No more television for the rest of the year.”

“But, Mrs. Claus…” Pizelle felt Mrs. Claus’ nimble fingers at the waistband of her knickers, and she quickly changed her mind. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Finish telling about Leila.”

“Yes, ma’am. Well, the strike continued, and the teachers were told by the union to stay on call through the new year. Carene had to call Leila, and Leila had to cancel all of their New York plans and fly to Carene instead. Leila hates the small town life, you know.”

Mrs. Claus patted Pizelle’s bottom, causing the hapless elf to sigh in relief. “What happened?”

“I made you some cocoa,” Carene coaxed, walking her pointer and middle finger up the back of Leila’s neck. “Do you want some marshmallows?”

“No, thanks.” Leila shook off Carene’s touch and bent down for her violin case. “I should get in some practicing.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Carene protested. “Your concert isn’t until mid-January.”

“Yes,” Leila said pointedly. “It’s Christmas Eve. We should be at the Met listening to La Traviata. Not pimply adolescents coming by to butcher We Three Kings.”

“I couldn’t help it.” Carene fell back as if Leila had slapped her. “Do you want me to lose my job?”

“Yes! I told you I’d get you a better one in New York. You could set up a private studio, only take the most talented kids, earn three times as much..”

At that, Carene straightened her spine. They had gone over this old argument more times than she cared to remember. “I respect your need to live in New York and play with the Philharmonic, so you respect my need to live in a small town and teach junior high orchestra.”

“Unless it’s inconvenient for you.” Leila spat out the words. “Thanksgiving? Your mother was sick. How many times have I had to come to you in the past six months? We were supposed to do this fifty-fifty, Carene. So why are we spending my two favorite holidays in your nowhere of a town?”

Pizelle interrupted herself. “She didn’t really mean it.”

“She meant it,” Mrs. Claus said to herself. “And yet she’s on the nice list. Why?” Her voice deepened. It became soft. Dangerous. “What did you do, Pizelle?”

“N-n-n-othing,” Pizelle stammered. “Just shared joy and light of the season as you and Santa wish me to do.”


“Ow!” Pizelle cried. “Ow! How will I ever sit down to cobble shoes if you don’t stop that?”

Mrs. Claus hauled down Pizelle’s polka-dot panties and covered the pinkened elven flesh with a flurry of wooden kisses. “One more time, and without the sass or so help me Santa I will make you wish you were never born.”

“I already do,” Pizelle muttered. “No! No! Don’t! I’ll be good!” She howled so loudly that Mrs. Claus couldn’t hear the words, and at long last Mrs. Claus ceased spanking to allow Pizelle to sob across her lap. “I’m sorry! I’ll never say or do anything I shouldn’t again. I’ll never take any more of your cookies. I won’t try to help anyone get off the naughty…” She gulped.



“What did you do?”

Carene retreated to the kitchen and poured the still-steaming hot chocolate down the drain. She shook, fighting tears. Should she have abandoned her responsibilities and gone to Leila instead? Leila was right. Carene hadn’t kept up her end of the bargain, but neither had Leila. She’d promised to leave Carene in peace, but every visit to New York meant endless harangues on why Carene should give up her job. Carene had come to dread the visits, dread the time together, and dread the touch of the woman she loved more than life itself.


Anger gone, Leila’s voice crooned with sweetness and a hint of…could it be…playfulness?

“I’m busy.” Carene turned on the hot water and scrubbed the spotless mugs.

“You haven’t opened your present yet,” Leila chided, coming behind her to wrap her arms around Carene’s waist and rest her chin on Carene’s shoulder. “I spent a lot of money on it, too.”

There went Leila again, flaunting big-city big-income perks.

“I’m busy,” Carene snapped, continuing to soap the red-leaf mugs.

“C’mon,” Leila purred, spinning her around and placing a small gilt-edged box in her hand. “Open it.”

Carene stared first at the box and then at her childhood best friend who had grown up into the most infuriating lover a woman could have. “No…” she whispered, refusing to touch the box.

Leila paused and disappeared into the living room. She returned with a hint of sugar on her lips, and she leaned in to transfer that sugar to Carene’s, licking to make every granule count. She broke a round white cookie in half and popped it into Carene’s mouth, caressing her cheek while Carene chewed.

Warmth spread through Carene, warmth and tenderness. She could feel the hot summer sun beating down as eight-year-old Carene and Leila picked dandelions and chased each other across the lawn.

“Get off the grass!” called out a camp counselor. “Leila and Carene, if you’re late to rehearsal one more time I’m calling your parents.”

“What’re you gonna do, spank us?” Leila gave a rude gesture as Carene pulled her into the woods.

“Shh!” Carene giggled. “You promised not to tell anyone!”

“What?” Leila blinked innocently. “That you like to spank me?”

Carene blushed to the tips of her ears, unable to move. Leila leaned in to kiss her cheek before turning around and wiggling her strawberry-print shorts. “Kissed me, kissed me, now you gotta spank me…”

Carene laughed and swatted, unable to understand the tingling that electrified her entire body.

“Carene?” A full-grown Leila traced the edge of Carene’s jaw, feeding her another piece of cookie.

Carene swallowed, catching herself before she teetered off-balance. Leila’s dark eyes gazed at her with such love, such tenderness, and a hint of primal desire that scared her. No, that used to scare her. Oh, all right. That still scared her. Carene had grown up with sweetness, love, decorum, and a sense of duty. Leila’s passion was still as foreign to her as it was decades ago.

Leila brushed the last crumb from Carene’s lips and knelt. Right there on the tiled blue-and-white kitchen floor, holding out the golden box. Leila took Carene’s hand and interlocked fingers to open the box together. Inside lay a plain gold ring studded with a single amethyst. Carene’s birthstone.

“Leila, I…” Carene’s voice trailed off. Wasn’t a diamond more traditional? Or didn’t Leila mean…but then why get down on her knees…?

“Pretend that we’ve just seen the same opera we saw on our first date,” Leila crooned, mesmerizing Carene with each syllable. “Pretend that we’re surrounded by snowy park grounds and I’ve tucked you into a snug blanket, and the horse is pulling our carriage past the fountain. The fountain where you found me after our first fight, when you stormed out of my apartment and said you were through and we could never be together.”

“I didn’t storm out. I said I needed some space,” Carene interrupted, but Leila paid her no attention.

“Where I brought you some bread crumbs to feed the pigeons the way you always wanted to do, even though the stupid dirty birds are a nuisance and real New Yorkers hate them.”

Carene laughed. “They’re pretty.”

“And where I said that if coming to New York made you this unhappy, I would give up the Phil and move to be with you all the time. And you said…”

Carene blinked, remembering and saying the words. “That I love every part of you, even though I hate the parts that take you away from me. And we had no problems a good, old-fashioned paddling wouldn’t cure.”

It was Leila’s turn to laugh. She took out the band and slid it onto Carene’s left ring finger. “And you promised me.”

Carene nodded. “So did you.”

“If I take your last name, will it save me from the latest ‘cure’ I’m sure you’re planning to deliver?” Leila remained on the floor, waiting.

Carene caught her breath. “My last name?”

“I’d have to remain Leila Feran for stage purposes, but at home…” Leila looked up with such sweet trust and submission that Carene’s eyes filled with tears. “At home, I want to come to you as Mrs. Carene Moraghan.”

“Don’t be so old-fashioned,” Carene said, trying to keep herself from breaking out into wild, erratic laughter. Never in her strangest dreams had she pictured Leila Feran wanting this. “Mrs. Leila Moraghan is just fine. And…”

Leila jumped up to throw her arms around Carene’s neck, laughing and crying. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk,” she said. “It didn’t matter where I proposed…it just mattered that I did.”

Carene sniffled and wiped her eyes. “And what did I tell you about the house rules here, Mrs. Moraghan?”

“I can’t wait to find out,” Leila drawled. She unbuttoned Carene’s blouse.

“No divas. And…”

“Yes, Mrs. Moraghan?” Leila slid the silky fabric over Carene’s head. “Ooh, someone went to Victoria’s Secret again? After I told you not to? Naughty. Guess I better take back your other Christmas present…”

“Don’t you dare,” Carene gulped, prickling with anticipation as she watched Leila unzip her own blouse. “No. No seducing me to get out of your punishment. March yourself to the bedroom and set out your paddle.”

“Yes, Mrs. Moraghan,” Leila cooed, cupping Carene’s chin to draw her in for a lingering kiss. Carene gasped as Leila sashayed out of the kitchen, shedding clothing with each step. “I’m waiting,” Leila called.

Carene opened the freezer and took out an ice pack. She held it in her trembling hands, steeling herself to remain firm. To hold fast to principles and…

“Oops,” Leila exclaimed from the bedroom. “My panties got stuck on your bed post. So I’m completely undressed…”

Carene dropped the ice pack and ran to her fiancee.

“Spank me.” Leila lifted her bottom and looked over her shoulder. “Kissed me, kissed me, now you gotta spank me…”

Later, Carene spooned Leila while reaching down to squeeze the red-hot glowing bottom cheeks. “What changed your mind?”

“I’m an angel straight from heaven,” Leila said with a poker face. She laughed as Carene gave a little swat. “I heard a knock at the door and found a box wrapped in a bow. It said to eat one and share the other with you. I might not have shared the entire cookie…”

“Naughty,” Carene mused.

“Very,” Leila agreed. “Perhaps you should cure me so I can learn to share.”

“Well,” Mrs. Claus said grudgingly. “That explains two cookies. And the others?”

Pizelle squirmed. “Am I out of trouble?”

“No. Answer the question.”

Pizelle sulked but re-thought her attitude. She didn’t want to provoke any more anger. “Natalie Mestecom was in a bad mood for the past month because she doesn’t like going through counseling, and she was taking it out on Kat. Kat was so upset she started hiding in the library instead of going home. Normally Natalie would have taken care of the issue with a good spanking, but she was too absorbed in her own issues. So Kat thought Natalie no longer cared, and she did some stupid things. I left them each a cookie.”


Pizelle sighed. “Karielle and Soris were tougher. Soris still thinks Christmas is a pagan holiday, and Karielle wouldn’t dare do anything after the punishment she got for putting up the Hollow Bean tree last year. So I broke up the cookies into crumbs and put them into Karielle’s apple pie. She got a spanking from Soris, but it was a nice one.”

“That’s six,” Mrs. Claus agreed. “There were at least a dozen.”

“Spring has been so good this year that she almost didn’t need the cookies. She’s been writing and working hard, and she only gives Rachel sass for a joke.”


“So Rachel was disappointed. She missed spanking Spring, and Spring missed it even though she couldn’t understand why. So Spring got cranky and…”

“I can imagine,” Mrs. Claus interrupted. “I broke more than one spoon over that stubborn author’s backside. It’s a miracle it only took one cookie for her.”

Pizelle grinned. She was safe! “Spring ate the cookie and confessed that she missed Rachel’s attention. They’re going on their first date next week, but Merry doesn’t know. Ironic, since Spring accused Rachel of sexual misconduct.”

“And the rest?”

“Mira’s parents were coming for a Christmas visit from the US, and she was nervous that they wouldn’t like Hana. Hana was so busy with a big embassy trip that she wasn’t around to reassure Mira, and Mira’s mother said a lot of things. Mira was so angry at what she thought was homophobia that she told her parents to go back and never come again. But…”

“I’m assuming the cookies worked their magic?” A hint of pride crept into Mrs. Claus’ voice.

“Well…Mira’s mother admitted she didn’t like Hana, but not because she was a woman. Stacy was afraid Hana would be transferred back to Japan and take Mira with her. Stacy wants Mira back in the US for good. She’s tired of her daughter living overseas.”

Mrs. Claus nodded. “Hana should have kept better tabs on her girlfriend.”

Pizelle hastened to reassure her. “Oh, she is. She had a long talk with Mira about proper behavior, and Mira’s back into school girl clothes at home for the rest of the week. Hana even got Nurse Trinity to visit, so Mira’s being sent to bed and woken up with a spanking every single day. Only problem is that Mira can’t keep her hands off Hana long enough for Trinity to spank Mira properly, and when Mira’s supposed to serve out her punishments in the corner or writing lines *Hana* can’t keep her hands off Mira.”

Mrs. Claus laughed. “How that cinnamon oil working for them?”

“Brilliantly,” Pizelle beamed. “Mira hasn’t sat down comfortably for six days, and Nurse Trinity’s agreed to stay for another week. She even had a Castle rocking chair shipped over from Ohio, and she says if Mira won’t settle down quick-smart there will be a rattan cane to go along with it.”

“Well done.” Mrs. Claus patted the elf’s bottom. “What about the last two?”

“Talia and Vina?” Pizelle blushed. “Vina caught Talia dozing off during a cabinet meeting, and Talia’s always hated all of her tutoring sessions. Vina insists Talia must be ready to step in as queen should anything happen to her, but Talia won’t take it seriously. You know that spanking doesn’t help much as Talia adores it.”

“Adores the belt,” Mrs. Claus corrected, “but not hand spanking.”

Pizelle nodded. “Well, ever since the last ‘ritual,’ Talia refuses to submit to a handspanking again. She hates being that vulnerable. So she threatened to run away, and…”

“Let me guess,” Mrs. Claus broke in. “You changed her mind with a snitched cookie?”

“Er…” Pizelle fumbled for words. “Everything is happy now in Queen Vina’s kingdom, and they can’t wait to visit Earth in a few months?

“You haven’t told me the most important part,” Mrs. Claus said, in a tone that made the poor elf’s insides shake harder than Santa’s bowlful of jelly. “Just how did you get these cookies in the first place?”

“P-p-p-please,” begged Pizelle. “I saved all of them from the naughty list. Please don’t…”

“Did you,” began Mrs. Claus as she rubbed her might spoon against the defenseless nether cheeks. “Did you enter my kitchen after you were specifically told not to do so?”

“Yes ma’am, but you see I was just trying to…”


“HOLY CANDY CANES!” Pizelle shouted, nearly leaping off Mrs. Claus’ lap in terror. “Please please please! I’ve learned my lesson and I won’t steal from you again!”

“You haven’t learned your lesson yet,” said Mrs. Claus with an ominous lift of her spoon. “But you will.”

“Nooooooo!” wailed Pizelle, and her screams shook the entire North Pole. “But I got everyone off the naughty list! You can’t!”

“Yes, I can, Pizelle, and do you want to know why?” Mrs. Claus deafened Pizelle’s cries with a thunderclap of wood against flesh.

“No! I mean yes, ma’am.”

“In all of your effort to get divas and authors and daughters and wives off the naughty list, do you know whom you forgot?”

Dread sank into Pizelle as she began to understand. “Noooo,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Mrs. Claus agreed. “You forgot to take off your own name. And if you don’t want to be on my naughty list this year and receive a stocking’s worth of coal that will translate into a switching every Saturday next year, you’ll take your punishment like a good elf. Or you can march yourself down to the unemployment office right now and get transfer orders. Perhaps Antarctica needs a penguin keeper.”

Pizelle covered her face in terror as the dreaded Mighty Spoon of Claus descended. “No!” she howled.

“Yes,” Mrs. Claus repeated. “Elf Pizelle, I will get you back on the nice list if it’s the last thing I do. And you, my dear, will not sit for a week.”

As Pizelle bucked and cried across her mentor’s lap, she dissolved into tearful peace. Mrs. Claus was spanking her naughtiest elf, and all was right with the world.

If not with her bottom.

Today’s challenge: Write your own naughty elf story using one or more characters from an Ana Vitsky book. Have a question about a character? Ask me in the comments, and I’ll try to answer as quickly as I can. Feel free to insert yourself and/or other naughty miscreants into the story. Have fun!

Characters featured in this story:

Simple Gifts

Simple Gifts


Music.  Without the love of her life, how can Leila learn to live again?


Professional violinist Leila Feran is accustomed to fame as the youngest and first female concertmaster of the Philharmonic Symphony.  Driven to achieve ever-increasing heights, she injures her wrist so badly that she may no longer be able to play.  While she recovers, she moves in with her childhood best friend, a pianist and beloved orchestra teacher in a small town.

Carene welcomes Leila with open arms and only one condition: no divas allowed.  And if Leila can’t follow the house rules, she might find herself over Carene’s knee…or worse. In between arguments over physical therapy and house rules, Carene’s zero-tolerance policy regarding divas results in some old-fashioned discipline that changes into something more.


Will Leila and Carene’s new feelings for each other blossom into something wonderful? Or will Leila lose not just a friend, but her potential soul mate?



Natalie always wanted a little sister. Kat didn’t know she was allowed to want anything…or anyone.

Kat, a shy farmgirl, arrives at her freshman dorm with a backpack, a suitcase, and her mother’s wish for Kat to attend college “at least until you get married”. Her roommate Natalie, a confident and fun-loving social butterfly, decides sight unseen that Kat will become her best friend for life. Natalie teaches Kat about college life, academics, and friendship by taking Kat under her wing…and over her knee.

Then their lives fall apart one fateful night on campus, and for the rest of the decade Kat and Natalie struggle to find their way back to each other. Their way home.



College roommates, best friends, and family. Can Kat and Natalie find a way to stay together…without killing each other?


Kat Astra knows one thing: everything is her fault. A dead-end job. A fear of confrontation. An inability to speak up when necessary. Desertion of her best friend in her time of need.


Natalie Mestecom knows one thing too: everything Kat does is Natalie’s fault. The relationship rule is simple; Kat has problems, and Natalie fixes them. But what worked in adolescence becomes more complicated with adulthood, and new developments in their relationship challenge these roles. Kat is no longer sure whether she is willing to be disciplined according to Natalie’s rules, and Natalie is no longer sure whether she is worthy of Kat’s trust.


Can Natalie allow herself to be vulnerable? Can Kat believe in her own strength? Can Natalie believe in Kat’s strength? How will they, each in their own way, learn to move beyond guilt and blame in order to forge a new relationship together? In order to make peace with themselves and each other, Kat and Natalie reconnect with family, re-visit memories of their past, and make plans for taking steps forward in the future. To light their way home.


Mira’s Desire


MIRA’S MIRACLE (book two)

MIRA’S DESIRE (box set of both books)

Mira thought she wanted a spanking.  What she got was love.

On her own for the first time, Mira is studying abroad for her translator’s certificate.  Unfortunately, the heady excitement of dance clubs, late-night parties, and endless shopping quickly distracts her from her educational goals.  Mira’s advisor offers her private tutoring, but the combined pressures of culture and language difference threaten Mira’s progress at school.  She is unable to get her act together until she makes a discovery that horrifies and tantalizes her: in her new country, corporal punishment is a way of life.  The secret to her academic success just might also fulfill her wildest, unspoken dreams.

Sexy. Seductive. Dangerous. A poignant and compelling read.

Whisked away to the fairytale Castle for a dream vacation, Mira confronts her darkest fears.

Vacationing at Master Marshall’s world-renowned Castle should have spelled Fantasy Land, but for Mira the trip means paying a debt. She promised to work hard at her translator’s certificate course while her advisor went on maternity leave, but distraction arrives in the form of her first love. Diplomat Hana Takahashi, from Desire in Any Language, captures Mira’s total attention. Between Hana’s stringent embassy security and Mira’s draconian school dormitory curfew, their stolen kisses drive Mira wild with desire. Hana makes a bet with Mira: keep up with her schoolwork or take a trip of Hana’s choice, according to Hana’s rules. No veto power.


When Mira presents her inadequate end-of-term report, Hana books a dream vacation—of Hana’s dreams. Safe within the Castle, the elaborate role playing kink haven, Hana turns Mira into her little girl. Complete with a private nurse, playroom with its nanny in charge, and a schoolroom filled with naughty pupils and a stern teacher, the Castle’s ageplay wing reduces Mira to a child from the moment of her arrival. Hana’s word is law, and all of the Castle employees carry out her orders for Mira.


However, Mira’s natural resistance leads to tantrums, defiance, and spankings from every adult who assists with her care. When she encounters a tutor who triggers her deepest fears, she must face her residual trauma over the duplicitous “Mistress Susan.” Is Mira ready for the maternal nurturing offered by Hana, or will her unhealed wounds drive everyone away? Can she become Hana’s little girl, or will she safeword out of the Castle to return to everyday life…without Hana? Will there be a miracle for Mira?



What if heterosexuality were a crime?

Betrothed at birth to the daughter of one of the most prominent Houses in the totalitarian theocracy of Bastia, soon-to-be-college-graduate Clissa isn’t sure whether she is ready to undergo the Mar. Once she becomes the Nur, or the submissive partner, to her betrothed she will have to submit all major decisions of her life to the beautiful Helaine whom she has only met once. She must marry a woman, according to the decrees of Bastian law.

Caught between his desire to “get along” and the growing awareness that he is “het” and is attracted to Clissa, Destral kisses her one day as they study in their college library. Shocked at the feelings the kiss awakens, Clissa begins to question everything she has been taught. Did Basti, their deity, really decree that it was sinful for a man to be with a woman? Will her growing feelings for Destral cost her everything that her parents have worked hard to give her?

In a mad attempt to subvert Bastian authority, Clissa and Destral run away to find the Het Pride, a group that preaches tolerance, equality, and peace. Z, their leader, promises that one day hets will achieve equality and freedom. When the Bastian police capture or kills most of the Het Pride, however, Clissa is assigned to new parents for “reeducation” in the doctrine of Bastia. Her new parents are given one mandate: Bring her back to rightness with Basti.

Clissa, lost in a system that is threatened by her very identity, must make her choice. Will she be broken by Bastian authority, or will she find a way to break free? Can true love overcome a harsh regime?



In some countries, turning 21 means gaining the right to vote and drink alcoholic beverages. For Claire Labraun, the Christmas after her 21st birthday would be beyond her wildest imagination.

Minelle and Matthew Labraun believed in a traditional marriage. Matthew was head of their household, and Minelle was his helpmeet. When it came to raising their headstrong 21-year-old daughter, however, they found themselves at a loss. Minelle had always taught Claire to do the right thing for right’s sake. Claire, however, had different ideas. She rebelled against their rules, flaunted authority, and connived to get things she wanted. She had never been spanked in her life; Matthew and Minelle kept that adult privilege strictly between themselves. But this year, a visit from Santa plus Claire’s newly adult status would change her idea of Christmas forever.



Award-winning author Spring Meadows and newspaper-turned-literary editor Rachel Templeton have one thing in common: they can’t stand each other.  Spring is sure that her bestselling talents single-handedly keep her publishing company afloat, while Rachel would like nothing better than to take this smart-mouthed, button-pushing prima donna down a peg or two.  When Spring makes the fatal mistake of accusing Rachel of sexual misconduct, Rachel decides to teach her a lesson.


“What is an author to an editor?” Spring asks herself.  If only she had been prepared for Rachel’s answer…



Born to a destitute woodworker who wanted a son to carry on the family business, Talia grew up with one phrase on her lips: “If I had been born a boy.” If she had been born a boy, she would have been cherished, supported, and launched into the world with her father’s legacy. As only a worthless girl, she toils all day long to earn her handful of inferior grain.


Far away in the heavenly palace, Queen Vina receives a mysterious coin necklace from Nicodemus, teller of stories. Compelled by the throbbing heartbeat, she scours the earth to come across Talia, enslaved to a family who never wanted her. Rather than admit her motives, Vina purchases the girl with a sackful of gold. Furious, betrayed, and homesick, Talia endeavors to share her misery with the entire palace. Vina, afraid to confess her love, allows herself to become trapped in the role of brutal slave owner.


Talia, bred to expect nothing but misery, faces the first choice of her life. Will she accept love, even if it comes from an unlikely source? Or will she reject the one who offers her everything?

Not featured: Daughter of Discipline, Ana Adored (should be published soon, I hope!) and Freiya’s Stand (still no publication date) as well as “Living in Sin,” which will come out on March 11, 2015.

Today’s challenge: Write your own naughty elf story using one or more characters from an Ana Vitsky book. Have a question about a character? Ask me in the comments, and I’ll try to answer as quickly as I can. Have fun!

138 thoughts on “Ana’s Advent Calendar, Day 20: Elf Pizelle’s Very Bad Day

          • ruthshulman says:

            Okay… here goes:

            “Oh, for the love of Rudolph!”

            Mrs. Claus paused in the doorway of Santa’s workshop to wince. Santa was not having a good day. Between global warming and the reindeer delivering fawns out of season, nothing was going well. How would the sleigh get around the world to delivery toys?

            “Now, now, Santa, settle down a tad. I think the elves are working on something to help. So take a deep breath and … maybe not have another cup of coffee, okay, dear?”

            “Elves! They can’t draw the sleigh! And they all want to head to Hawaii once toy season slows down anyway. I tell you, this year I might not be able to do my duty to the good boys and girls! What are we going to do?”

            “Settle down, first. Take a deep breath! Work on the ‘jolly’! I’ll go check and see what’s happening.” She rushed out of the workshop door in a whirl and swirl of red skirt. Myohmy, she thought. There’d better be some magic stirring at Elf Ville!

            And so there was, as Mrs. Claus noted first thing. Santa’s sleigh was polished and bright. Bags of toys were magically piled in the carrier and the sleigh’s comfy seats were tidy and looking extra soft. After all, it’s a long flight and a lot of exercise.

            But the most amazing thing was, all the large, grey, wrinkled and sturdy looking animals harnessed to pull the sleigh. Mrs. Claus gasped. What could be happening here?

            Suddenly, Harold, the eldest elf, tapped her elbow. “Ah, Mrs. Claus! So happy to see you! The lads and I have come upon a solution to the sleigh problem. Look closely, Mrs. Claus.” Harold’s eyes twinkled.

            So did the eyes of the creatures. Just exactly alike, those twinkles. Mrs. Claus turned to Harold. “What is this, Harold?”

            “Elfelants, Mrs. Claus! The boys have taken on the shape of elephants, you see. They do well in warm weather, they are strong, and with a little elf magic, they can deliver all the toys all over the world. Christmas Eve is saved!”

            And so it was, to the delight of all good boys and girls all over the world, and Mrs. Claus, and Santa.

            (“Bad” boys and girls all got wooden spoons with a little instruction booklet. But that’s another story for another time.)

            *snerkle* 😀


  1. Holla Dean says:

    That was a great elf tale, Ana. I enjoyed it and would love to write a quick little elf story but my day is already full of more than I can get done. And it’s all my stupid day job, not writing. 😦


  2. P.T. Wyant says:

    *sigh* I have to go to work today… no time to write a real story… But…

    Elf Ginger tried not to fidget as she waited to find out if she was in trouble or not. True, she shouldn’t have stolen Leila’s violin bow. And breaking the strings on Carene’s piano really might have been taking things a bit too far, but really, she’d had no other choice. As long as the two of them could hide in individual melodies they would never find harmony.


  3. Leigh Smith says:

    Liked your tale, have no time today to write, but if I did it would be about naughty Minelle from you very first published book. Watch out for that damn spoon. oops I said a naughty word – better run.


  4. Joelle Casteel says:

    What a delightful way to combine Mrs. Claus, an elf’s spanking, and all your characters 🙂 beautiful 🙂 thanks for the lovely Saturday morning


    • Joelle Casteel says:

      oh to do your challenge, hmmm…. I’m thinking about Hana and Mira and Nurse Trinity and wondering about keeping it from becoming NSFA :D. Although I bet within all of Mira’s stressing that she wound up with an owwie tummy like I did this week and so Nurse no doubt needed to give her an enema and take her temperature… and anything more than that will most definitely be NSFA 😀


  5. Shannon Love says:

    I’m so sorry. I really want to participate in a story today but my day is too full to sit down to create one. I just finished with a chess tournament for my oldest son. Now the the other two kids need me (and apparently a mall Santa may be on the list for today).
    I look forward to reading the entries today. If this comes up next year, I’ll be ready.


      • Shannon Love says:

        Ok, so I didn’t read the instructions very closely enough. I have until tonight to come up with a little story. That I could probably do. I have all day today. Oh, and I bought a few of the books listed above that I didn’t already have. I’m not trying to get brownie points . . .


  6. JC says:

    So here it goes.
    It is finally Christmas Eve! The elves have been slaving away for weeks to get ready for this one day. Every one has seemingly been working hard for fear of falling on the wrong side of Mrs Claus. Unfortunately there always seems to be one not willing to do their share. As Mrs Claus stalks through the workshop waving her giant wood spoon at those not working fast enough, she sees a pair of pointed elf shoes sticking out from under the huge Chritmas tree in the center of the room. Tip toeing closer to the tree she kneels down to see who is under the tree. Much to her surprise under the tree is elf Ana. Instead of working she is eating delicious sugar cookies and reading naughty books. Mrs Claus clears her throat to alert the naughty elf to her presence. When Elf Ana looks up to see a very angry looking Mrs Claus she tries to escape by crawling out the other side of the tree. But she is not quick enough. Mrs Claus grabs Ana by the foot and pulls her out from under the tree. TO THE CORNER she yells, PUT YOUR NOSE IN THAT CORNER. You are going to be one sorry little elf.


  7. laurellasky says:

    It was the third night of Chanukah and instead of making toys, the naughty elves were playing strip dreidel and betting all of Ana’s cookies. Naughty Laurel fixed the dreidel so she could win all the cookies. She was the only one with her elf clothes on as she rigged the contest. She started giggling which caused all of the elves to giggle as giggles are contagious. Unfortunately they were so loud that Mrs, Santa heard them and confronted them. Laurel said, ” gee Mrs. Santa, these elves were very naughty they are naked and I am the only one property dressed.” Mrs. Santa was no fool, she said, ” all of my Christmas cookies are missing and you naughty gild, you have cookie crumbs all over your face and clothes.” Mrs. Clause put laurel over her knee and pulled Down her elf panties and spanked her with the wooden spoon. When her bottom was bright red, she mane the naughty elf stand in the corner with her bottom on display. then she said ” it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature or Mrs. Clause”


  8. sassytwatter says:

    Poor little Pizelle (makes me think of a cookie) I think Mrs Claus was a bit harsh someone need to wack her in the bum! But loved reading the story this is what I remember most about advent the funny stories!


  9. Sarah says:

    Okay. I’m on it……thing music appreciated. Please remember, I write very boring research papers, so be kind……Off to write an elf story!


  10. ruthshulman says:

    I have to say, I am enjoying all the little elf stories. Someday, I might get racier, but neither the elves in the neighborhood or myself are holding any breath. But this has been a funny day here at the Advent Calendar. Thank you! 😀


  11. lara estes says:

    Well not much forwritingbut I will give this a shot. However this may not be completed today. In any case spank on people, spank on.


    • lara estes says:

      Well here it was Chirstmas Eve and all of the elves where celebrating, all that is except for Kat, Natalie and Ana. You see Kat and Natalie where about to be punished for what they had done to poor Ana. Kat and Natalie had taken Ana to the deep woods the day before and left her there. Ana returned that night cold and a every case of cat scratch fever.
      Now Mrs Claus had gone to check on Ana leaving Kat and Natalie by themselves to ponder there coming punishment.
      Kat “I wonder what she going use to punish us”.
      Natalie with a smirk on her face whispered “I hope she uses one of her wooden spoons”.
      A look off fear crossed Kat face upon hearing this, “she really uses wooden spoons! I thought that was just a run or”. “Have you been punished before?”
      Natalie did not reply but gave a smiled sheepish smile and kick her feet back and forth.
      “You’ve been punished before, I knew I should have never agreed to go with you and take Ana to the dark woods”, Kat said with a furrowed brow.

      Just then Mrs Claus returned with the look of anger on her face, “which one of you would like to face the spoon first” she growled. Natalie jumped to her feet to volunteer but was cut short by Mrs Claus. “You, Kat come here, your first””.
      With that Kat approached trembling with ear for what was to come. As she drew near Mrs Claus grabbed her and hurled her over her lap. In one swift movement she had ripped Kat’s britches down to her ankles. Spoon in hand, she began swatting Kay’s bottom and did not stop until her cheeks where as red as Santa’s cheeks.
      Tears rolled Kat’s nose drop by drop forming a small bubble on the floor. Mrs, Claus stood her up and looked at Kat with anger still in her eyes. “Are you ever going to do that again” she said sternly. Kat nodded her and managed a wimpered “no Mrs. Claus”.
      With that Mrs Claus turned her attention to a smiling Natalie. She had been enjoying spanking that Kat recieved, eager for her own. Mrs. Claus turn and walked over to corner and reached into the large wash bucket. She pulled a very large wet spoon.

      Mrs. Claus looked over at Kat and said “your done, you had better leave”. And with that Kat turned and ran from the room, the door slamming behind her. She could hear Mrs. Claus telling Natalie you are nit going to enjoy it this time. And with that came thunderous smack and an howl that made Kat run even faster.


  12. Chickie says:

    “Elf NaughtyAna!” bellowed Mrs. Claus. “You’ve just left the corner and now I hear about this? Where are you?”

    Mrs. Claus didn’t have to search far, for the little pile of cookie crumbs under the great tree gave her away for the second time today. Pulled out by her toes, Elf NaughtyAna was quickly hoisted over Mrs. Claus’ lap.

    The poor elf shifted back and forth, wailing and searching for a dry spot for her innocent little face to rest that was not soaked with Pizelle’s tears and snot. Mrs. Claus locked her legs over NaughtyAna’s flailing legs, and wedged her tight with her left arm. She fuddled around behind and under the chair, in search of a spoon. Alas, there was nothing but broken splinters to be found!

    “I didn’t do anything!!!!!”

    “You know what you’ve done. Now bring me a spoon from the kitchen. Eh, never mind. To the corner with you! Oh, my my my… You’d enjoy that too. Pizelle, come here please!”

    Sweet little Elf Pizelle’s shuffled in, clearly in pain from her earlier punishment. Mrs. Claus instructed, “Pizelle, dear, please go to the willows by the reindeer nursery and bring me a switch. Best make it several and do be quick about it. I fear NaughyAna believes anticipation is the best part. Stand up and look at me, NaughtyAna.”

    “Mrs. Claus, if I may beg your pardon. I am a good sweet elf who has committed no wrongdoing. I do not understand why we are even having this conversation right now.”

    “Well, let’s see. I do believe that’s your name on the front of every single one of those books up there, is it not?”

    “Yes ma’am.”

    “And you created situations where our lovely Pizelle felt forced to break the Elf Code of Honor to remedy the problems. Isn’t that right?”

    “Yes ma’am”

    “I was willing to overlook the path that you forced upon Pizelle, that is until I heard about your latest stunt.”

    “Stunt? I do not understand. I am a good elf.”

    “Oh, I think you do. Can you tell me how many shopping days are left until Christmas?”

    “Just five.”

    “Let’s be realistic here. Few can shop on Christmas eve. Your fellow elves are in overdrive trying to fill all the requests. We rely on parents to fill in where we can’t come through, especially with those pesky electronics. Now, I hear that you expect people to write a story? A whole story? NauhtyAna, you should be ashamed of yourself. You caused sweet Pizelle to neglect her training and suffer a punishment, now just think of all the punishments that are due to be delivered to the mommies who felt the need to write rather than shop.”

    In the distance, a distinct whooshing could be heard as Pizzelle padded down the hallway. And with a giggle, she bounded into the room.

    (This is about the point that it’s sure to become NSFA and I’ll leave it at that)


  13. Mary M. says:

    Here goes a story by a non-writer:(caution, I may have added a few blog attendees as I loosely interpreted them as some of Ana’s characters 🙂 )

    Elf Pizelle was beginning to worry. P.T. had ordered such a large Yule log that the room she was preparing for Natalie and Kat was heating up like a sauna. The Solstice Sanity Selebration ,complete with Georgia Mud Fudge Blizzards and special sugar cookies from Mrs. Clause, was in danger of becoming a sugar slick. The ice packs for afterplay were melting, and worst of all, the handcrafted wooden spoons that Pieclown was going to juggle were missing. Just in time, Kat showed up and confessed to Natalie where she had hidden the spoons and Ruth had her Elfelants pull the log outside, Strangely, this seemed to heat up the attendees as they arrived, especially Natalie, who grabbed a hefty wooden spoon, 2 of the blizzards, and (NSFA from here)


  14. ameliahfaith says:

    Dearest Ana, I have but a moment as today is so busy! I am being rushed even as I type!

    Bubbles the elf was aptly named as she was more bubbles than brain but she had a great heart.
    One afternoon it was Bubbles turn to clean Mrs Clause’s office. She was late and so she was rushing. being not overly bright she soon got herself in a tizzy. She had moved piles to the couch, books to the window sill, plants to the book case…such a jumbles mess.

    Mrs. Clause came to check her work and was aghast, but not too surprised to see the mess. She calmly cleared her throat and gave Bubbles a disapproving look. “Bubbles, my dear, look at the mess you have made. You were to clean the office, not destroy it! What happened?”

    Bubbles was so embarrassed and a bit frightened “Er..Um…I wasn’t sure where to start and then everything seemed to go so wrong so fast” at that the tears that threatened to fall started.

    “Come here Bubbles, you need to be punished and you need to learn to concentrate!” Moving to the desk she reached into a drawer and pulled out a lovely wooden spoon that was polished to a shine like nothing Bubbles had ever seen. Mrs Clause sat on the edge of the couch and called Bubbles over. She held out her hand and Bubbles took it. She had the young elf lay across her lap as she pulled up her little skirt……

    It would be hours before the office would be cleaned.


  15. catrouble says:

    Hey Ana…you know I’m not much of a writer but I do appreciate a good story. My favorites so far are JC and Chickie! 😀

    Hugs and Blessings…


  16. SH says:

    Here is my story, and you will see why I read and don’t write lol Anyway, here goes…

    It’s the day after Christmas and every elf is sound asleep, except for Elf Ana who is remembering the events leading up to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and worrying herself sick in the process.

    Santa had delivered all of the presents with no complications and everyone had reason to celebrate another successful Christmas season. There was a fancy dinner and all of the elves sat comfortably, except for Elf Ana, with Santa and Mrs. Claus. All of the food had been prepared on Christmas Eve and they enjoyed music, cider, eggnog, soda, punch with enough Christmas cookies for everyone.

    Ana, was the only elf who had a hard time sitting, except for maybe Pizelle, and all because of Mrs. Claus and her horrible wooden spoons! And now, in her safe, little elf bed she is starting to second guess her wonderfully, brilliant but possibly not her best idea… What was she going to do?!

    Then, all of the sudden, she heard what she had been dreading and tried to bury herself deeper in her cozy bed. Mrs. Claus was talking very loudly and angrily calling all the elves to the kitchen. “Where are all my wooden spoons? I can’t make breakfast pancakes, muffins, or anything without my spoons!” Ana’s stomach dropped to her feet and she slowly moved herself backwards until she was at the back of the group. Her idea was definitely not her best moment, but she was sure all of the chefs of the world were thrilled to find a wooden spoon amongst their Christmas gifts, right?

    It didn’t take long for Mrs. Claus to maker her way through the group and end up directly in front of Ana. There was no way Ana could look her in the face, she just couldn’t do it. “Ana, you see me standing here and I expect you to look me in the eyes. Right now!”, said Mrs. Claus. Or, maybe she could, darn it! Taking a deep breath, Ana looked up and wished she was still in her little elf bed. Mrs. Claus was furious.

    “I am only going to ask this one time and I expect the truth. Did you take my spoons, Ana?” Ana gulped and tears started to run down her cheeks as she said, “Yes’m”

    “Thank you for the truth, my sweet girl. Since it is the day after Christmas today and we will all begin to make toys for next Christmas, guess what you will be making every day Ana?” Mrs. Claus nicely asked. Ana just stared at her in response, dreading her answer. “You are going to make wooden spoons, Ana, every day until there are enough to replace mine and enough to gift to all the chefs and bakers again at Christmas. Because dear, it was a wonderful, thoughtful idea even if you weren’t thinking that way when you made your decision to gift mine.” Ana thought that was not that bad, she could make wooden trains or wooden spoons or wooden blocks, until Mrs. Claus continued, “At the end of every work day, you will bring me the wooden spoons you have made, and I am going to test every one of them on your naughty behind. Because, we need a quality control test, right?”

    When Mrs. Claus smiled and winked at her, Ana knew she would never try to think up any ideas while she was standing in the corner ever again.


  17. Renee says:

    So, Naughty Elf Ana felt she should be exempt from the corner and trouble because she engraved all of Mrs. Claus’s wooden spoons. Unfortunately for Ana, Mrs. Claus and the rest of the elves did not agree with her assessment. Elf Ana had quite the day on the advent calendar today. She started by threatening poor Elf Minelle with a whupping even though she had not made an actual appearance, then created a story where Elf Pizelle received quite the spanking, threatened PT with Evil Mistress Kate {shudder} and poor Elf Shannon with Headmistress Blake {shaking in my curled elf shoes}, only called Chickie naughty when she clearly left us hanging at the end of her story, and threatened Jay with losing valuable advent entries. The elves and Mrs. Claus decided to let some of Elf Ana’s own characters handle the problem. Mira thinks Ana should spend some time at Master Marshall’s castle while Clissa thinks she should find a safe place to be herself, and Leila knows she just needs her friends for support. Mrs. Claus does agree with all of these suggestions but feels that the meeting of one of her special engraved spoons and Elf Ana’s bottom would be the quickest solution to Ana’s naughtiness.

    As I have stated before… I’m a reader not a writer for a reason. Blessings. R


  18. Laura says:

    Ok, here’s my story. This is why I don’t write professionally.

    “You’ve been so uptight and busy lately and I was just trying to make you laugh” Mira huffed, as she stood in the corner with the tights of her elf costume around her knees. Hana walked back to Mira and turned her nose back into the corner. “Starting a food fight while we’re making cookies for tonights party will not make me laugh. Now we’re even farther behind and instead of getting them into the oven and then having time for us, you’re going to get spanked. Keep that nose in the corner and I’ll
    be back as soon as the cookies are started” said Hana. Mira started to cry as she listened to Hana making the cookies they were suppose to do together. Hana came back in and gently grasped Mira’s
    hand and led her to the sofa. After putting Mira over her knees Hana rubbed the wooden spoon on her bottom and commenced with the rump a pum roasting. Mira was soon moving to a Christmas beat that only she could hear. When it was all over Hana soothed and cuddled Mira. “C’mon my love, let’s go finish up then you can clean the mess you made” murmured Hana. As they went off to decorate the cookies Mira noticed that Hana looked more relaxed and began to plot her next her next escapade.


  19. Kyra says:

    I have read only four of these but really loved a The Masters of the Castle. Will have to read the rest. In all honesty , I’m too exhausted to try anything right now. Will hope for another challenge soon.


  20. thelongbean says:

    Unfortunately apart from a short window (about 3 hours) I am busy all day so can’t get to writing anything worthy of consideration…


  21. Minelle says:

    Late I know….sigh. However I fell asleep early!
    I am cheating a little but first…LEIGH….! Me? MOI Mrs. Perfect?

    I say that Ms Ana the naughty elf is once again in the corner with her bottom cherry red from the wooden spoon. She used all of Mrs Clauses flour to make fresh bread! When Mrs Claus went to make her sugar cookies….she was left woefully short!


  22. laurellasky says:

    It was a dark and stormy night and Ana’s elves sat around the campfire. Of course Since Laurel was the head elf she told the story. My dear elfs, tonight is a perfect night for a snipe hunt. I passed out wooden spoons and burlap bags. Noe take off you clothes so you don’t make any noise and scare the snipes. Go in couples, one to tap the wooden spoons and the other to hold the bag. Don’t be discouraged as it cane take all night. The winner will be the biggest snipe. Meanwhile back at the campfire Laurel ate s’mores and drank hot chocolate and had fits of giggling as she imagined the silly elves hunting for snipes.

    Just then evil mistress Kate showed up. She sternly asked me where the elves were. I replied that they were in the woods collecting fire wood for the campfire. She then asked me why there clothes were here. I gulped and said its drizzling and I didn’t want them to get wet clothes and catch a cold. Mistress Kate looked at me and asked if that was the truth. I hung my head and said no. “You are in for a night to remember. Go stand in front of that big tree with your naughty nose pressed to it.” I’ll deal with you later.

    So my friends ends my tale of woe. Happy holidays to all and to all a good night.


  23. katerichards says:

    Oh Miss Laurel! What a naughty naughty elf! I think maybe just standing by the tree is not quite enough punishment for fibbing and sending all your friends off naked into the woods….I think we need to get them all bundled up in their winter cozies while they watch you pressing your nose to that tree unclad. And if Anastasia will but loan us her spoon, they can each have a good tap. Let the punishment fit the crime!


  24. pieclown says:

    OK I got it done. I did not get go overboard, but it is naughty.

    Charles heard a noise form out side. Who would be out in the dead of winter. Charles looked out his window to see a sleigh and a white haired lady climbing out. Charles thought to himself, what does this fat bitch want. At the moment, the lady turned and look right at the window. Shit did she hear me, nah, must have been something else. Charles open the door to his shop and greeted the woman. “Welcome” he said as he looked over the rig. I was nice so she may have some gold. “what brings you out on this cold day?” “Well sire, I hear you are a wood work. I am need of some new wooden spoons. I have broken all mine, with the recent holiday.”
    “So you do a lot of baking” Yes, but they broke over the backsides of the helpers. I need some that are sturdy enough to give a sound spanking. Do you have any thing like this. I will pay nicely for a good wooden spoon.” “Well, I normally would use a nice paddle for giving spanking, but I can see that as a lady you may want something that you can wield easier. May I ask your name.” “ You may call me Lady C. and I can assure I can wield a paddle, but with my helpers they are a tad small.” “That’s ok I know about putting kids to work. Let me show you what I got inside.”

    Lady C followed Charles into his work shop. She did see some paddles and other instruments there. Charles pulled a wooden spoon and handed it to Lady C. “Now this would be my toughest spoon. I sell them to folks that make syrup and hard candies. Thus it needs to be real tough. I sure that any one that gets smack with that will start howling after just a few strokes.“ “really and it will no break?” “Break no way, I mean little lady like you could never break one of my spoons.” “Are you willing to bet on that. “ “what?” I will order 12 dozen off these spoon, and have you monogram them over the nest 2 months, IF you prove that these will not break, while spanking your bare bottom, for that I will pay you 2 gold pieces per spoon.”
    “ 2 gold pieces sure, yeah, yes, yes, wait you said want to spank me with the spoon?” “What are you afraid that this FAT BITCH could make howl like a sissy little girl?”
    Charles was in shock, she heard him and now she was going to make him pay for that comment. But 2 gold coins per spoon, and she is ordering a gross off them. 288 gold pieces that is more then what I got for that kid of mine.
    “Ok, but it will be 3 gold pieces, the extra for the monogramming.” Lady C looked him with a twinkle in her eye “DEAL. Now Bend over the table.” Charles look over the elegant lady before him, thinking yeh you go head, do you worse, and then he bent over his work bench. Lady C move to the side and said “Are your ready” “Yes” “Sir I need to know much damage this does to bare skin. So drop you drawers!” “Yes ma’am” Charles did not know why he did, but he pull down his britches and all. He felt the cool air on exposed but. Lady C took a moment to look at his adult male ass. A lot larger then those naught elves, but now where near the size or Mr C’s. Lady C shook her self out of a beginning daydream and brought the spoon down hard on the right cheek.
    YEOOOW!! Screamed Charles. Where did that come from. Charles start to stand up, but Lady was and expert spanker, and grabbed his near arm and pinned him down.
    “Well you were right that it would make you howl, but let’s see if I can brake the spoon”
    “No way, you can do this sh” before he could swear, she put the spoon or the left cheek.
    “If you feel like you need to use filthy language in my presents, I will find some soap for that naughty mouth of yours.” Each word was punctuated by a slap of the spoon. Charles had been hit this hard ever. He could believe how strong this lady was. He started to grunt and scream with each hit. “STOP it, please” he cried. Lady C went about her work; seeing how his pale rump was being roasted. It was becoming very pink, now slightly red. “Well I will have to agree these spoons do make anyone howl. Now can they stand up to the heavy punishment.” With that, she laid into his red cheeks with thunderous blows. Charles scream and tried to stand, but was held firm. These blows came hard, but not so fast. She wanted to see how his flesh succumbed to the blows. She stopped and looked at the spoon. I did not show any sign of damage, as for Charles rump, it was well roasted. “Ok, I will expect the first 12 in a week. Here is 50 gold pieces, for a deposit. Then better be this quality or your rear will pay for it. And don’t for get to monogram them.” Charles was cry and looking at the gold, “hey what do you want them to say?” She stopped and thought, why not she is why I don’t have any spoons and the ones she made were less the adequate. “Ana”


  25. Shannon Love says:

    Alrighty! Here’s my shot at a naughty elf story. I don’t know any of the other ladies well enough to play around with their lives so poor Elf Pizelle is in the hot seat again. . .

    It was 6 days before Christmas and production at the workshop was ramped up to high speed. But for Elf Pizelle, it meant 5 days before the Elf of the Month was named. Being named Elf of the Month on Christmas Eve was the highest honor of all. Pizelle finally managed to resist the call of naughtiness and had yet to fall under Mrs. Claus’ spoon this month. Elf Renee and Elf Emma had cleaned up their act and not only stayed on the Nice List all year but made Elf of the Month in June and July, respectively. This was Pizelle’s month. Her work was exemplary (Mrs. Claus’ words just last week) and she’s been a model worker.
    Elf Pizelle woke up and looked at her clock. “8:00 AM!!! I overslept!!!” She must have forgotten to set her alarm. That wasn’t like Pizelle; she meticulously went through her bedtime routine as meticulously as Santa eyes up his lists. She remembered setting her alarm for 6am to get a jump on her day; just as she had for the last month. Elf Pizelle jumped in the shower and quickly lathered up. Panic was welling up inside her as she knew that tardiness was not tolerated. When she got out of the shower she ran to get dressed. Where were her clothes? They were just here!! She put them on that chair last night.
    Pizelle ran to her closet. Empty. All her uniforms were gone. She raced to her dresser, and in a wild panic, found an old uniform from 2 years ago. Elf Pizelle had pilfered quite a few sugar cookies in the past 2 years so this uniform was a bit snug pushing her ample bosoms up and showing a little more leg than was appropriate in the workshop. She looked like the naughty elves from the movies. No time. She ran through the workshop as fast as she could. However, she couldn’t escape the gasps and then the guffaws that erupted through the entire workshop. She wanted to crawl under the desk she was so mortified. “What is the meaning of this? You’re late! And that outfit!” Elf Pizelle turned to see an angry Mrs. Claus looming over her. Scared stiff and stammering, “I’m sorry, m-m-ma’am. I had nothing to w-w-wear . . . this is all I could. . .” But Mrs. Claus wouldn’t let her finish. “I expect you to keep up on your washing and be better prepared. I’m watching you, Elf Pizelle. Get to work!! We have no time for delays!!”
    “Yes, Ma’am. Sorry Ma’am.” Elf Pizelle’s face was bright red with embarrassment as the wave of whispers spread through the workshop. A quick “SHH” from Mrs. Claus before she went into the kitchen stopped the whispers immediately. As she worked, Pizelle noticed her tools were out of place. It took her longer to find her little hammer and when she finally did, it broke apart in her hands after the first tap. She found her spare hammer and it fell apart after two taps. Not only was she late, but she was falling behind. She looked over at her fellow show cobbler, Elf Emma, and asked “Do you have a spare hammer? All of mine broke and I’m really behind.” Elf Emma just looked over at her, stifling a giggle, “Sorry, Elf Pizelle, I only have the one hammer. Nice outfit! Are you trying to get the attention of any elf I know?” Elf Pizelle knew Elf Emma had a spare hammer under her bench but didn’t press. She didn’t want to get caught arguing and she needed to get her work done so she took off her own shoe and used the heel to get her work done.
    When Mrs. Claus checked on the elves’ work before lunch, she saw Pizelle was far behind in her work. “Elf Pizelle! It is only 6 days before Christmas, it is not the time for daydreaming. I’m getting a little tired of your antics today! And what are you doing with that shoe? If you don’t get to work right now, I’ll use the sole of that shoe on your bottom before finishing you off with my wooden spoon.” Elf Pizelle hung her head and said, “But Mrs. Claus, my hammers broke and this is all I could find to get my work done.” Mrs. Claus went to the tool closet and brought back a hammer for Pizelle. “I’m watching you, Elf Pizelle. You can work through your lunch to catch up. If you don’t straighten up, you will find yourself on the Naughty List and it will be extremely difficult to sit at your station until Christmas.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” Elf Pizelle didn’t want to go to lunch anyway looking like a shrink-wrapped Betty Boop. The rest of the work day went smoothly with the new hammer. Elf Pizelle met her quota of shoes and stacked them up her station. She realized she hadn’t left her station all afternoon and nature was definitely calling. She ran to the restroom as quickly as she could move, through the snickers and giggles of the working elves she passed. When she returned to her station, most of the shoes were gone and there was a plate of warm, freshly baked sugar cookies in her work space. Elf Pizelle stood there in shock for half a second until the aroma filled her senses and her stomach started to growl and mouth started to water. She had missed lunch after all and these cookies were fresh from the oven. Maybe Mrs. Claus took pity on her, realized she was having a really bad day, collected the shoes and left a present.
    “WHERE ARE MY COOKIES???” screamed Mrs. Claus from the kitchen.
    “Nope,” said Elf Pizelle completely distraught. This can’t be happening!! She grabbed the plate and looked frantically for a place to stash it. She saw a shelf and as she raised the plate, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist. For such an old lady, she can move through this workshop like a cheetah. All color drained from Pizelle’s face. This was it. Why is the world against me today, she thought? Tears started to well up in Elf Pizelle’s eyes. There was no escaping the iron grip. The evidence was stacked against her and she was trapped. Mrs. Claus grabbed the plate and hauled Elf Pizelle over to the nearest chair. Elf Pizelle had no fight left in her. She allowed herself to be pulled along in front of the entire workshop and she fell limply over Mrs. Claus’ lap. Warm tears streamed down her face and dropped to the floor in front of her.
    “What do you have to say for yourself?” demanded Mrs. Claus. Elf Pizelle could only sob harder. Mrs. Claus drew the large wooden spoon from her apron. She brought it up high. The entire workshop gasped and Elf PIzelle clenched her butt cheeks anticipating the first stinging blow. The wooden spoon remained in the air one second, then two, then five . . . What was going on? Elf Pizelle was wondering if Mrs. Claus was adding psychological torture to this punishment. A pin drop could be heard in the entire workshop. Mrs. Claus looked around the workshop and seemed to be contemplating. The spoon was lowered gently and placed back into her apron. Mrs. Claus carefully raised Elf Pizelle, cradled her on her lap, stroking her hair and drying her tears. Pizelle melted into Mrs. Claus’ embrace. It was even better than a mouthful of freshly baked cookies. It warmed her from the inside and she was able to stop the tears. “There, there, Elf Pizelle. You have been guilty of your share of naughty behavior in the past. But this is not your style. You have done so well this month. I believe you are the victim of sabotage.”
    Mrs. Claus called to one of the laundry elves to give her a quilt that just came out of the dryer. Elf Pizelle was now warmed on the outside and was starting to feel sleepy. Mrs. Claus stood up and carried Elf Pizelle to a soft, cozy fleece-covered bean bag chair. Man, that woman was strong. Kitchen elves delivered a warm cup of hot chocolate and a hot bowl of chili on a tray.
    “My suspicion was confirmed when I noticed a work station, out of the corner of my eye, with more shoes that could possibly be made in one day. I’m sure there will be an extra closetful of clothes in a certain elf’s room.” At that, a housekeeping elf approached Mrs. Claus and whispered in her ear. Mrs. Claus’ face turned a deep shade of red and she bellowed, “ELF EMMA!!!!”


  26. Amy says:

    Ok, here goes:

    Elf Pizelle wasn’t in a hurry for a repeat of Mrs. Claus’s punishment, so she thought perhaps this time she ought to plan ahead. She’d seen these funny little Elves in a store, and they had piqued her interest. Weren’t they supposed to watch over children and keep them from being naughty? If she bought a few and left them in the houses of her favorite naughty-listers *before* they could do wrong, they might all be in for a very happy holiday.

    Sadly, Elf Pizelle was disappointed to find the Elves weren’t magic at all. When she opened the boxes, the long line of them stared up at her, unblinking. Elf Pizelle refused to let a little thing like that set her back. The instructions said they would only do their magic when they weren’t being watched. All she had to do was name them and give them their homes. That wouldn’t be too hard.


    “Elf Pizelle!” bellowed the angry voice of Mrs. Claus.

    Uh oh, thought Elf Pizelle. What can it be?

    “What have you done?!” shrieked Mrs. Claus.

    “Um…um…I tried to keep my friends out of trouble.”

    “Well, somehow, you managed to start more trouble!” Mrs. Claus stood before her, hands on hips. Her face softened, though, and she sighed. “At least the trouble wasn’t from our happy couples this time.” A wicked smirk blossomed on her face. “Perhaps I’ll limit your punishment.”

    Elf Pizelle wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.


    Meanwhile, each and every one of the households in question had woken up to the same very strange sight: A pair of sweet–or maybe creepy–little Elf-doll couples, smooching under the mistletoe, a wooden spoon clasped between them with a big, red, Christmasy bow on the handle and a little glittering heart painted on the back.


  27. Sarah says:

    Okay, here goes!

    “I can’t believe you told on me!” Rowie hissed. Melona’s frown deepened. “It was mean Rowie.”
    “No, actually it was funny!” Rowie stated with a smirk. “Did you see Cook’s face! I thought she was about to explode, her face was sooooo red! Besides, that will teach her to give the triple choc cookies to that goody two-shoes!”
    “Rowie, the only thing you have taught Cook is that you are in desperate need of a jolly good spanking. Now I suggest you stop hiding in this cupboard, go find Cook, and take your punishment like a good elf!” Melona shook her head, her disappoint showing clearly.
    “I am sure Cook will inform Queen Vina of your behaviour. She will probably send you back to the North Pole, and Mrs Claus will have quite a few things to say, with a paddle no doubt.”.
    “Not a chance, my bottom is still burning from yesterday! No way am I going to voluntarily put my posterior anywhere near that wicked wooden spoon Cook keeps next the ovens! Besides, no one will find me here! I think..Oh! ” Rowie exclaimed softly as the door widened slowly to reveal not only Cook looking thunderous, but Queen Vina standing beside her.
    “No Rowie,” Queen Vina said, shaking her head sadly, “I am sure you did not think before you decided to play your trick on Cook. Now come along, we have much to discuss.”
    “I didn’t do it!” Rowie spat out, cringing as she realised that lying was so the wrong thing to do.
    Faster she thought possible, Queen Vina reached into the cupboard and took Rowie’s ear in a firm pinch.
    “Eeeeoooowwww! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It was just a little joke! I didn’t mean it! Please don’t spank me, I’ll be really good! I promise!” Rowie howled all way the down the corridor. The closer she got to the kitchen, the louder her cries became. ” I’ll never play another prank again, I promise! I’m sorry! Please! Nooooooooo!”
    Queen Vina led Rowie to the kitchen, pulled the chair that sat next to the hearth to the middle of the room, and sat down, still holding the ear firmly. She then moved Rowie to stand before her.
    “Now my young elf, would you care to explain your behaviour for the last 3 days? If I am remembering correctly, on your first day here you swapped the sugar bowls for salt on the breakfast trays, which meant a great deal of people started the day badly. On the second day, you tied tinsel and bells to the kitchen cats tail, causing Smoogy to take fright, race around the kitchen, trip 5 people and waste time, effort, and food that was being prepared for the less fortunate. Today, you put cayenne pepper in Cooks breakfast omelette. Have I covered everything? Cook? Melona?”.
    With tears coursing down her face, Rowie hung her head in shame.
    Cook looked at Melona, then pursed her lips. “That about covers it my Queen. That’s a lot a trouble for one small elf in just 3 days. Maybe it would be best to just send her home and be done with her.”
    Rowie whipped her head up in a panic. “No, please, don’t send me home!”


      • Sarah says:

        Queen Vina studied Rowie for a few very long moments. “Melona? What do you have to say?”
        Melona winced. “I’m sorry Rowie, but your behaviour has gotten out of hand. I think that another session with the spoon is in order.”
        Rowie stared at Melona in outrage. “You…you… I thought you were my friend!! Cook said we could have some of those cookies, but then she gave mine to Ana! SHE gave away MY cookie! To ANA!! All I did was add some spice to her omelette! It was a joke, ’cause she was mean!”
        “I told you that naughty elves do not get cookies! You are an unruly, unthinking little miscreant, who deserves the spoon!” Cook bellowed.
        Queen Vina’s eyebrows rose impossibly high.
        With a quick tug, Rowie found herself face down over Queen Vina’s lap. Her stockings were peeled down and a warm hand sat on her backside. “Cook, please hand me the spoon.Thank you Cook, Melona. You may leave us now.”
        Queen Vina tapped lightly on the soon be cherry red bottom. “I think you need some lessons. The first lesson is about wasting food.The second is the consequences of causing mayhem. The third, jealousy. The fourth, learning to take your punishment when it is due. And the fifth, and final lesson, is about lying. What do you have to say elf?”
        Her head dangling limply, her face wet from tears, Rowie snuffled quietly. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I just wanted some fun, then Cook took away my cookie, and I was angry. Mrs Claus sent me away because I am a bad, bad elf. I am now the third assistant reindeer stall sanitation worker because I am so very bad. Please don’t send me home!”
        “You are not a bad elf, Rowie, however you do need to learn some impulse control. I hope these lessons sink in before you do something that cannot be undone. Bottom up my little elf!”
        And with that, Queen Vina proceeded to spank Rowie very hard with Cooks lovely, highly polished, well oiled, large mahogany spoon.

        And Rowie never got caught doing anything naughty ever again.

        Well, almost never.

        Maybe occasionally.

        Once or twice.


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