Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and
illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity
offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any
illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy,
and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is
a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in
such behavior to seek help immediately.

Title: Zwarte Piet and the Naughty Boy (Fantasy, Fairytale, BDSM,
b, Mb, punishment) 
Date of Latest Update to This Story: 12/20/16

Dear Reader: Thank you for taking the time to read my work. If
you wish to drop me a line, feel free. My email address is
(CreepingDawn@protonmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from
you. Additionally, proofreading is not one of my better skills so
if you find errors you believe impact the story's readability,
please let me know. Offers to proofread will be welcomed with
open arms.

Without further adieu...

......................................................

Sinterklaas loved Saint Nicholas' Eve. It was, in fact, his most
favorite night of the year. And he'd seen a lot of years, being
over a thousand years old! The cold snow on the ground. The warm
glow of houses at night. Shoes left outside for him, the
wonderful and kindly old sprite that he was, to fill with candy.
The delight many children in Europe would experience the next
morning when they discovered that the saintly Sinterklaas had
deemed them "good." Yes, it was a wonderful season and
Sinterklaas loved it!

Some children, though, would not experience joy. Instead, in the
morning, they would wake to find a lump of coal in the shoe - an
indication they had been deemed lacking in good character. Fewer
still found their shoes beneath willow branches, indicating to
the child (and their parents) that a bit of heavy-handed
discipline would go a long way to correct their wayward behavior.
These children often cried; expecting to be rewarded and instead
humiliated. Of course, Sinterklaas thought as he skipped from
house to house on the fifth of December, things could be worse.
Those children could be going in the sack!

For indeed, though many tens of thousands of children received
candy in their shoes and many thousands received coal and many
hundreds found willow branches, some children, those who
misbehaved the most and who represented the worst youngsters in
Europe, found themselves stolen away from their bed by
Sinterklaas. It was easy. His magic would let him enter any home,
keep everyone asleep, and allow him to pluck the child from their
bed and deposit them into his magic burlap sack where they would
be transported to Spain and meet Zwarte Piet. Zwarte Piet, known
as Black Pete, was Sinterklaas's oldest friend and the one
Sinterklaas trusted to take care of those ill-disciplined
children (though Sinterklaas never asked Black Pete how he `took
care' of them as Sinterklaas really didn't want to know the
answer.)

Sinterklaas's magic was a wonderful thing. Only a moment after
the child went into the sack, they'd pop back out. Moreover,
they'd be a new and much better behaved youngster! For
Sinterklaas, it seemed that their trip into and out of the sack
took a blink of the eye. For the child, he knew, it felt like
their experience lasted days (or weeks or even months - depending
on how long it took for Black Pete to convince them to change
their naughty ways!)

And so, for a few truly terrible children, Sinterklaas reserved
the sack. And the boy in this house, little nine-year-old Joost,
definitely needed the sack! Ignoring the empty shoes on the
porch, Sinterklaas slid the door open and casually walked inside.
A few moments later, he stood at the foot of Joost's bed.

The boy, though only nine, was a real menace. Cute as a button,
with bright blue eyes and beautiful blond hair and a dazzling
white smile (and perfect teeth), he managed to charm adult after
adult after adult. Known far and wide by the grown-ups as a
perfect angel, the boy was known by all the local children as a
devil. His list of crimes was immense, having beaten up many of
the neighborhood children and threatened to kill them if they
told. Keeping a small pocketknife in his sock, all the children
believed him. The rumor was he'd even killed one of the
neighborhood cats several months earlier; a rumor he didn't deny.
He slashed bike tires, broke windows, and stole everything in
sight. And he was never caught! The kids hated him and feared him
and wished, oh how they wished, that someone would deliver them
from this terrible mean evil little bully. Sinterklaas smiled.
Though he wished the child had been good, he knew Black Pete
would set the boy straight.

Grabbing the youngster, he pulled open his magic sack and slid
the still sleeping boy in it. A moment later, the boy was gone.

...........

Joost lay on his back, staring at the stone ceiling of his cell.
Barren except for a small sleeping mat in one corner and a small
hole for his filth in another corner, the cell had become his
home for the past two weeks. The walls, floor, and ceiling were a
dark grey stone, smooth and lacking any distinguishing
characteristics. The only light came from a small window well
above him. No one had entered his prison during the last fourteen
days. No one had let him out. The only way the boy knew the days
were passing was the movement of the sun and stars seen through
the window.

Occasionally, when Joost wasn't paying attention, a small meal of
water, fruit, cheese, and bread would appear somewhere in his
cell. The boy had no idea where it came from and was always
surprised to see the small bit of nourishment nearby. What really
made the boy nervous, though, was the fact that there was no
door. No door! He'd searched every crack during the first day and
was convinced, as well as petrified, that he was in a doorless
room!

Joost had tried to get the attention of his jailor many times but
no voice ever answered him. As far as he knew, he was entirely
alone. Thus, while the first week saw Joost yell and scream and
cry, the second week had been filled with silence. A great
sluggishness had overcome Joost and his mind began to leave his
body, floating through the ether.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Joost took several deep breaths.
His eyes opened. A shadow, just off to the side of him and barely
visible, caused the boy to turn his head. "AHHAHH!" he cried as
he bolted upright and against the wall, staring at the large
black man siting in a wooden chair across the room. "Who... Who
are you?" the boy asked breathlessly, his eyes darting about
seeking some explanation.

The man said nothing. Motionless, he stared at Joost. The boy
took a deep breath. Then another. Something about this man was
strange. Besides the fact that the man had appeared out of
nowhere, he seemed somewhat familiar. He looked like... "Black
Pete?" the boy asked cautiously, realizing that the costume the
man was wearing, it's brightly colored material hard to miss,
reminded him of the many examples of `Black Pete' he'd seen over
the years. The man smiled but said nothing.

Joost slowly stood. It couldn't be the real Black Pete, he
thought to himself as he carefully took one step towards the
seated man. Sure, Black Pete was supposed to have special powers
but it was a children's story. He wasn't real. Joost took a
second step. Then a third. Before he realized it, he was standing
right in front of the massive man. The man said nothing.

For some reason, Joost began to remove his clothing. His
nightshirt came off first, showing his lean pale torso and pink
little nipples. Then he kicked off his pajama bottoms, exposing
his young coltish legs to the cool air and leaving the child clad
only in his tight underwear. Those underpants were quickly
discarded and the boy, his small immature member hairless as a
babe, stood in front of Black Pete. The man said nothing.

Though the air was clear, Joost found his head was swimming as he
turned slowly. Whereas an empty cell had existed behind him, now
before him lay a strange looking massage table. Climbing on top
of it, Joost placed his head in the perfectly fitting headrest
while his chest and stomach slid gracefully to a rest on the
smooth leather surface. His pelvis and hips had no such support,
however, but this awkward position was fixed a moment later when
Black Pete grasped his feet and pulled his legs wide apart and
downward, connecting Joosts knees and shins with the two arms
under the table. This gave the impression of kneeling to the boy,
with the lower half of his body in a comfortable kneeling crouch
and the upper half of his body resting comfortably on the smooth
horizontal table. The one thing the boy noticed immediately was
that his behind was on total display to the man behind him and
his genitals hung freely in space.

Joost looked at the grey stone floor for several minutes, unsure
of what was going to happen. Then, as his eyes grew in surprise,
the grey stone began to bleed color. Blue. White. Green. Red.
These colors seemed to seep out of the stone itself and meld with
each other into an image. Eventually, as if reaching critical
mass, the image gave a sharp lurch and became crystal clear.
High-definition television sort of crystal clear. And the image
was... him, several months earlier, crouched in an alleyway. The
day he hurt the cat.

The image-Joost had an evil little smile on his face as he waited
for the cat to turn the corner and Joost, knowing what was going
to happen next, tried to close his eyes. He found that he
couldn't. He watched as his doppelganger grabbed the cat and
carried it deeper into the alley to torture it before
eventually...

[SMACK]

"AYEEE!!!!" Joost screamed as a sharp lancing pain shot through
his vulnerable bottom and he saw out of the corner of his eye a
thick leather strap swing ominously under the table. "NOOOO!
NOOOO!" he yelled to the man behind him as the pain rushed
through him.

[SMACK]

The boy cried again, sure that two bright angry red lines now
crisscrossed his backside.

[SMACK]

[SMACK]

[SMACK]

[SMACK]

Over and over, the strap bit into him as he cried and wept from
the pain. He tried to get up. He really did. But somehow, he
couldn't. He tried to close his eyes. He couldn't manage that
either. Below him, the image-Joost had begun to hurt the cat and
Joost watched in pain at his actions from earlier in the year.
The cat began to yowl just as Joost was yowling and the two
filled the room with a symphony of pain.

.......

Every time Joost awoke, the man, Black Pete, would be there.
Every time, Joost would stand up and feel his backside, his flesh
unmarred and his body uninjured. Every time, he would approach
the man, strip, and set himself on the table. Every time, the
images below would coalesce into some sin he had committed. Then
he would be whipped. Joost never knew if he passed out or what
but he never could recall the end of the whipping. All he knew
was that eventually, no matter how hard he tried to stay aware of
his surroundings, he would wake up to repeat the process over and
over. And his body was always whole - as if the previous whipping
had never occurred!

Dozens of times. Hundreds. Joost tried to talk to Black Pete, to
plead with the man to let him go, but it never did any good. As
the blows landed and he watched his past self commit some crime
or hurt some other person, Joost began to hate the boy in the
images. It was his fault, Joost decided, that he was now
suffering retribution for those previous wrongs. Why did he pull
that girls hair? Why did he threaten that boy with his knife? Why
did he steal those candies or those coins or those knickknacks?

.......

Again, Joost found himself on the table as the floor coalesced
into a new image. He took a deep breath, wondering what scene he
would be watching now and preparing himself for the beating his
bottom was about to experience. The image snapped into place and
Joost groaned. It was the alley. It was the cat.

Tears began to form in Joost's eyes as he realized what he was
about to see again. The cat came around the corner and his
pervious self scooped it up, preparing to hurt it. The duo began
to travel out of the alley and towards Joost's home. Then they...

Joost was confused. This wasn't how things had played out. He had
taken the cat further into the alley and he had hurt it. He
hadn't taken the cat to his home and... and fed it a bowl of milk
while petting it! Joost tried to rise but found that he still
couldn't. That wasn't right, what he was seeing! The Joost below
him was being kind to the cat!

Suddenly, two warm hands grasped his bottom and pulled his flesh
apart, exposing his small pink anus to the cool air of the room.
Joost shivered. This was new. This was different. Warm breath
ghosted across his flesh and, a moment later, hot air blew
directly on his most private sanctuary. "Ohhhh!" Joost sighed.

"OH! WHOA!" the boy shouted a split second later as a hot wet
tongue swiped casually at his entrance. "HEY! HEY! WHAT ARE YOU
DOING!" he yelled, the feeling not unpleasant but scary in its
own way. No voice answered him. As he watched the image-Joost pet
the cat affectionately, a determined tongue began to lick and
tease and probe his anus before the aggressive appendage began to
push its way past his sphincter and into his bowels.

Warm pleasant feelings began to sweep through Joost as the
invader sawed in and out of him, his backside tingling in a most
unusual but most welcome way. His penis began to grow and Joost
felt his member swell into a hard three inches. "Ohh! Yeah!!!
Ughhh! Aaaugghhh!!" he moaned in time with the tongue as he felt
his entire body tingling now. The tongue seemed to go on forever,
much longer than any tongue the boy could possibly imagine and
eventually his energy began to seep from his limbs and torso,
drawn down towards his bottom. Joost's own tongue lolled out of
his mouth and he could feel saliva dripping onto the floor. He
didn't care - the tongue in his bottom felt wonderful.

Suddenly, it seemed as if all the energy in his body was rushing
towards his bottom in a strong current and Joost felt it all
combine into a powerful and charged ball of energy, focused in
his pelvis but vibrating with intense desire to discharge. Like a
star about to go supernova, the nine-year-old thought for a brief
second. Then he saw white.

"AHHH!! AAAUUUGGGHHHH!!!" he screamed, his first ever orgasm
exploding outward thanks to the stimulation of his asshole. His
limbs shook. His bottom contracted on the tongue pistoning in and
out of him. His penis throbbed with energy, despite being
untouched. "OHH! OHH! OHH!" he chanted as wave after wave
assaulted the climaxing child and he tried desperately to hold
on. It was no use, and Joost was swept away.

.......

Every time Joost awoke, the man, Black Pete, would be there.
Every time, Joost would stand up and stretch, knowing something
good had just happened but unable to recall the specifics. Every
time, he would approach the man, strip, and set himself on the
table while associating feeling wonderful with images of kindness
and compassion. Every time, the images below would coalesce into
some alternative version of history; with Joost doing something
nice for someone else. Eventually, Joost would feel his bottom
part and a tongue would slither into his most private place. Then
Joost would feel good. Oh so good...

Dozens of times. Hundreds. Joost's whole life was re-imagined
below him as his sins were turned to triumphs of goodness and
decency. Orgasm after orgasm. Kind act after compassionate
action. Why would anyone ever do anything uncharitable? Why would
anyone ever be mean?

.....

Awareness hovered on the edge of oblivion as Joost began to wake.
Cracking one eye open, Joost could see Black Pete sitting on his
chair in one corner of the room, staring at him. Joost knew
something was different, but everything that had come before
seemed muddled and confused. What had he been doing? And why was
Black Pete naked?

Standing, Joost stripped his clothes casually while examining
Black Pete. The man was nude, his penis standing straight up and
throbbing. Joost shivered, having never seen a penis look so
imposing. His own little member got hard once in a while, sure,
but this was a different beast. Slowly, the boy crossed the room.
Black Pete said nothing. Joost looked at him for a long time
before turning around. He gasped.

The room was gone. Before him, hundreds of visions floated in
darkness. Joost being mean. Joost being kind. Joost getting a
whipping. Joost getting speared on a tongue. The images and his
previous thoughts flooded back into the boy as he stood their,
feeling the warmth of Black Pete only inches behind him. Two
strong hands slid under his arms and picked him up, pulling him
backwards. Black Pete's knees slid between his own legs and
spread, forcing Joost's legs and bottom to open and exposing his
small pink anus. Black Pete lowered him then, causing Joost to
groan when he felt the man's large wet cockhead touch his anus.
It would never fit, the boy thought for a moment.

Then Black Pete pulled Joost straight down. Perhaps it was the
magic of Black Pete or perhaps it was the magic of the room, but
whatever it was, Joost felt no pain as Black Pete's huge cock
slid easily up his pre-teen asshole. The large flesh slithered
smoothly past the boy's sphincter and deep into his gut, the
angle causing the pulsing flesh to saw aggressively over the
boy's prostate. As Black Pete's bushy pubic hair started tickling
his pert white bottom, the boy threw his head back and groaned.

Joost's little penis became rock hard as Black Pete began to
bounce the youngster up and down on his thick rod, the cock
pounding Joost's prostate over and over. "AHH AHH AHH AHH EEYYEE
EEYYEE EEYYEE" the child screamed in pleasure as the orgasmic
feelings swept through him. He climaxed powerfully and threw his
head back onto Black Pete's sturdy chest. Black Pete kept going,
giving no quarter.

At this point, with his climax roaring through him, Joost would
usually fall into unconsciousness. He didn't. The magic of Black
Pete kept him buoyed to the present and refused to let him
escape. Thus, the boy endured an orgasm that lasted several
minutes as Black Pete continued to fuck him energetically and the
two watched the many scenes floating in front of them.
Eventually, though, Black Pete slowed and stopped the fucking,
giving the child a much needed rest.

Joost's mouth was open and he was drooling all over himself. His
body was slowly coming down from the high that was that most
amazing orgasm. His eyes drooped and, for a moment, he compared
the black as night skin of Black Pete to his own lily-white
coloring. The dichotomy was startling. So, too, was the fact that
he had a massive black penis entirely encased inside of him.

Joost made a decision. He would never again be bad. He would
reject bad habits and bad action. He would never do harm. He
would always scorn what was wrong.


At that very moment, Black Pete's left hand suddenly began to
dance across Joost's immature balls. The boy squeaked. Then,
Black Pete's other hand, warm and slick with some form of
lubricant, grasped his hard little penis and began to slide up
and down his shaft. "OOHHHH!!!" Joost wailed, a new type of
pleasure shooting through him. Up to this point, the boy had only
experienced anal-induced orgasms. Now, his body responding to
Black Pete's expert ministrations, he was played like a violin.
He certainly sang like one.

"Ahhh Ohhhh Ughhhh Ahhhh" he moaned, the black hand sliding up
and down his small shaft and running roughshod over his sensitive
coronal head. "Oooohhhh" he cried, his balls teased mercilessly.
Joost threw his head backwards onto Black Pete's shoulder and
emitted a high-pitched squeal, his face covered in snot and drool
and sweat.

With a large black cock pulsing up his ass and two black hands
masturbating him furiously, Joost climaxed a second time. He
screamed unintelligibly, the hands working him hard and fast. He
thrashed, flailing around like a rag-doll. He tried to form
coherent thoughts but the pleasure was so immense, he was simply
overwhelmed by the experience. Seconds ticked by. Then minutes.
The boy kept cumming, on the edge of loosing consciousness but
never pulled away from the unimaginable sexual high and into that
welcoming darkness

At last, the hands receded and Joost breathed normally, groaning
pitifully in exhaustion. His body, a sweaty mess, nestled
comfortably onto the sturdy warm embrace of Black Pete. As
minutes ticked by, Joost began to think on the images in front of
him. It wasn't enough simply to renounce being bad. He had to
actualize being good. At that moment, the boy reached another
life-changing decision. He would be good from now on. Totally,
irrevocably, and unquestionably good.

"That's what I was waiting for, boy" said a deep warm voice just
inches from Joost's ear. Joost jumped in alarm, surprised. Black
Pete had spoken! "Sinterklaas will be pleased. Another job well
done. Time to head home, boy."

Joost was overjoyed! He was heading home!

Expecting to be lifted off the cock impaling him, Joost let out a
small yelp when Black Pete began to slowly bounce him up and
down. A moment later, one of Black Pete's hands found Joost's
wilting member and began to stroke it in time with the fucking.
Having climaxed twice in a row, the new onslaught of pleasure
sent Joost into a spasm and the boy whined, not understanding.

"Wwwhhhyy? [ughhhh] Whhhyyyy? [ughhh]" he questioned Black Pete,
sure that acknowledging he would be good would end his
imprisonment and stop the sexual assault.

"Because I still need payment, boy" the man grunted.

Black Pete sped up, his large black cock hammering the small pink
hole repeatedly as the boy's sphincter, twitching at the
pounding, gripped his member tightly. His body became a blur, his
thrusts unbelievably fast. The boy kept moaning and Black Pete
didn't seem to care, his own orgasm incredibly close.

Coherent thought fled Joost as Black Pete pace quickened even
further, his hand moving rapidly over the small boy's now
straining member as he bounced the child up and down, impaling
the boy over and over again. "NOOO OOHHHH NOOOO AHHH UUUGGHHH"
the child groaned, his legs kicking out to his side and his hands
grasping the big black forearms encircling him. It was too much.
It was too soon. His penis and anus exploded again, his third
orgasm crashing into him as he screamed.

"AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

In the final moments of thought, as the waves of pleasure crashed
through his mind and body, Joost heard Black Pete roar and felt
blast after blast of hot liquid fill his backside.

Then everything became dark.

..........

Sinterklaas licked his lips and, a moment later, his bag became
full of nine-year-old child. Reaching in, the old sprite pulled
out the sleeping boy and tucked him into bed; placing a loving
kiss on the boy's forehead. Had the boy experienced a day? A
week? A month? Who knows, thought Sinterklaas for a brief moment.
He was sure, though, that little Joost was now a perfect angel
and smiled at the thought of how the neighborhood children, who
knew the real Joost, would welcome the change. The boy would be
good and that was good enough for Sinterklaas. He also wouldn't
remember a thing, except that he had a change of heart and a
change of character.

Slipping out of the house, Sinterklaas peered down the street as
the darkness and snow swirled around him. Many more stops lay
ahead and many shoes needed to be filled with candy. And a town
away, sleeping in his bed, laid little Bjornn; a nasty
eleven-year-old who needed a bit of time in the sack. Sinterklaas
smiled - he had much work to do.