The Love Song of Norman Bates:

Christmas Gifts




Seasons Greetings, my loves! I wrote this smutty, holiday themed vignette in a total of five hours. Those hours were unfortunately interrupted again and again by unexpected family obligations, lol. Please forgive any typos or poor writing.

Anyway, it goes without saying that this story is dedicated to ALittleTasteOfMadness. She has been amazing, a real blessing in my life. She's the best Christmas Gift I could ever receive. I promised her this after she found out the The Truth in the Illusion was NOT going to end happily. I hope you love this, my dear.

Don't forget to review, I love hearing from you so much! Merry Whatever-You-Celebrate to you, and a Happy New Year!




Norma had become enamored of the tradition of Le Réveillon de Noël since they had moved to France, and tonight she had really gone all out of the friends they had over. Midnight had come and gone; excited but sleepy children had gorged on seafood, truffles, and foie gras, followed by a lovely chocolate and mint Yule Log.

With a weary sigh, Norman pushed the leftover smoked salmon into the fridge as his mother saw Antoine and Juliette out, helping to wrangle their children into the car. He had helped her prepare the meal, but she had still done the majority of the work, and he couldn't imagine how terribly exhausted his mother must be.


Norman closed the door and turned, seeing William rubbing his eyes as he tugged his little sister Nancy along. Nancy was still not talking much at the age of two and a half, at least not to her parents, and she relied on her older brother to communicate for her. "What is it William?"

"Nancy's tired," he said, "and I am too."

Norman put the last few dishes in the dishwasher and reached for the detergent. "Well, let's just wait for your Mere, shall we?"

"Dors maintenant, Pere," Nancy said quietly.

That got Norman's attention, and he turned and lifted his little daughter into his arms. "All right, sweetheart. Let's go to bed then." He took Williams hand and led them all up the stairs to their rooms. "William, get some pajamas on and we'll meet you for story time in your room."

By the time Norma had returned from seeing their friends on their way, Norman had the two older children in bed already. She was holding tiny, six month old Susan to her chest as she met him at the top of the stairs. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he whispered, smiling. His lips brushed hers gently, "Nancy and William were just tired."

"Here, Suzie's asleep, too,honey. Lay her down and meet me in the bedroom." She smiled, eyes sparkling in the glow of the Christmas lights. "I have a present left for you still."




"Mother?" Norman called as he stepped into their bedroom. The lights were dim, the only illumination coming from the small Christmas tree in the corner and the beside lamp. "Mother?" Norma was nowhere to be seen, but a flash of red caught his eye on their light blue comforter.

A red velvet hat with fluffy white trim lay there, with a small note next to it.



Put your hat on so you look the part, and go sit in the desk chair.

-Your Naughty Girl


Smiling, Norman placed the hat on his head and sat in the chair his mother usually sat in to pay the bills, a strong but comfortable padded wooden seat; it had starred in some of their role-playing before. Trying to ignore the arousal burning low in his belly, he hoped that was what Norma had in mind...

Just as he was beginning to wonder where she was, the door to their bathroom opened and Norma stepped out. Her blonde curls were hanging loose around her face, they way he liked them best, and she was dressed in a way that left no doubt to what her intentions were. The white fur-trimmed bra pushed up her breasts, and the little matching skirt clung to her hips. "Merry Christmas," he blurted out, at a loss for words.

Norma pulled the candy cane she was sucking on out of her mouth. "Merry Christmas, Santa," she cooed. Stopping briefly, she pressed a button on their stereo, and a familiar song began to play as she came and settled in his lap.

"Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me;
Been an awful good girl, Santa baby,
So hurry down the chimney tonight..."

"Have you been good this year?" he said, a little embarrassed, but trying to play a long. His hand slid up her stocks and fingered the fluffy, white hem of her skirt.

Norma pouted and looked down. "Oh, no... I've been very naughty. I think you'll need to punish me."

Just like that, Norman went from self conscious to completely absorbed by this little scene his mother had planned. "I agree completely," he said darkly. His grip tightened on her thigh as he thought of his tools; they were across the room. That new flogger he'd bought, or... maybe the leather paddle... "You'll have to go get something for your punishment."

"I bought you a special present," she said, reaching around him to open one of the desk drawers. She was so close, and he turned his head into her neck and bit into her skin gently with a growl, and she faltered. When she pulled back, she had a little silver box in her hand, which she held out to him.

Norman opened it, curiosity rising inside him as the paper fell away and he lifted the lid. Inside were two black leather gloves, and he looked at his mother questioningly.

"Try them on," she said, falling out of character for a moment.

Sliding one onto his hand, Norman noticed the inside of the palm was sprinkled with little silver studs instead of the back. "These... these are..."

"Spanking gloves," she finished. "I had them made special for you."

Norman wasn't sure how he felt about them, not yet. He slipped both on, using the little velcro-clasps to tighten the wrists, and squeezed his right hand into a fist to test the feel. This would be... different, but his mother wouldn't have bought them if she didn't feel they would both enjoy them.

"What do you think?"

She sounded eager and scared, so he ran his hand up her shoulder to rest on her neck, relishing her little shiver. "I think you need to lay across my lap right now." When she didn't respond immediately, he squeezed her neck and little harder and pushed down. "I said now."

Whimpering, Norma shifted off his lap and lay down across it. Laying his arm on her shoulders to steady her, he flipped her skirt up. The garters that held her stockings up were digging into her flesh a little, but it was what she wasn't wearing that caught his attention. "You are very naughty, aren't you?" he asked, his voice smooth like silk. "Now, I want you to count each strike, Mother. We're going to see how many you can take."

His hand felt and she jumped, but didn't yelp. "One," she said breathlessly, and he felt the tightening of his pant leg as she gripped the fabric. He flexed his hand again, marveling. There was almost no pain in his hand from the strike, and her rear was darkening nicely, with little circles where the studs impacted. "I think I do like it," said, and he struck her again.

Five more and she was squirming, twelve more and gasped instead of counting, and he gave her three fast extra strikes. "Did I tell you to stop counting?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," she wailed, pulling harder on his pant leg.

"It's okay. You're doing very well." He stroked his hand over her reddened globes and slipped two fingers down to slide over her wet lips. "Maybe you deserve a little reward." His gloved digits slipped inside her and thrust twice before pulling out and circling her clit. He waited for her to shudder before he pulled back away and hit her again. By the time he let up, she had lost the ability to count, simply sobbing until his hands stopped and he helped her up.

Norma crawled into his lap, legs circling him as she clung to him. "Was it too much," he asked, concerned.

"No, no," she answered quietly, and she kissed his cheeks and then his mouth.

Her tears were salty on his tongue, but her ardor was evident as well. He picked her up and carried her to their bed, swiftly unbuttoning his pants. He was inside her before they hit the mattress, sliding in easily. "Oh, God!" Norma cried as her abused flesh hit the mattress. "Norman!"

"So naughty," he hissed, hooking her leg over his shoulder and pushing her down. His hand lightly stroked the rosy, sore skin he had access too now, as he pounded into her.

It didn't take long. Norma was shuddering beneath him in moments, falling limp on mattress as he found his release inside her. He loved it when she looked like this; drained and blissful, relaxed as she never was any other time. She needed the pain to relax, and he needed to give it. "Mother," he moaned, "I... I love you..."

"I love you too, Norman," she mewled, holding him close.

With a few more thrusts, he was spilling inside her with bursts of joy behind his eyelids. His mother caught him with rubbery arms when he collapsed onto her, and he breathlessly peppered her neck and chest with sucking kisses and little nips. "You... are...a Goddess," he moaned before rolling over and pulling her into his arms.

Norma nuzzled into his neck, kissing him back. "That was amazing."

"You're amazing." He caressed her cheek with his leather-clad fingers. "And I love this present."

"Me too, honey. Joyeux Noel."

Norman sighed. "You know we still need to put out the presents, right?"

"Yeah. I'd better change first though."

"No, I like you like this." He helped her up and swatted her one final time before pulling her skirt down. "Can that be part of my present?"

Norma giggled and nodded, turning on wobbly legs to walk away and still managing to shake her hips. "You're explaining it to the children if they wake up. Maybe round two after?"

After his mother had glanced back seductively at him and disappeared into the hall, Norman stood and straightened his clothing. "Yes, Merry Christmas, indeed..."