Gift Wrapped
He's been both naughty and nice. Femdom Erotica. Episode X23
There was always a part of it that didn’t make sense, where the implied narrative in the photo didn’t quite add up. Yet the fantasy depicted in the catalogue image was so intense, that from the moment he saw it he was obsessed. Hardly a Christmas went by where the image didn’t tickle at the back of his mind, even if the math didn’t really math.
It was a set of red patent leather manacles made in the shape of a large bow, the kind that would go on a big Christmas present or a very small Lexus. In the picture, the naked brunette knelt with her wrist bound at the small of her back by the large festive bow, the patent leather ends of it neatly draped over her succulent cheeks.
Something in her eyes froze him in place when he first saw the image. She was looking back at the camera, over her shoulder, with an expression of startled surprise, eager but afraid, that seemed particularly in contrast with the festive cuffs. She might be part of someone’s happy holiday, but her holiday seemed destined to include tears and maybe a forced orgasm or twenty. That the camera was surprising her from behind, and her hands were powerless to stop what ever violation was about to befall her perfect peach, always made him stiffen in his shorts. He daydreamed for years about what that feeling would be like.
But how did she get there? That was the part that didn’t make sense. How could she close the buckles behind her back? If her dominant did it, then weren’t they just giving a present to themselves? An awful lot a ceremony for a self gift. And once bound up as a present, how long would the dominant wait to unwrap her? The only narrative that really made sense was that she was the surprise gift from one dominant to another. When he first saw the image he was painfully single, and he thought ruefully, “What kind of shitty God would make a world where I need to get TWO Dommes in order to experience being gifted like this?”
However, now he has a Domme, one he loves more than anyone or anything in the whole world, and as the holidays approached he had once again begun to think about the bow. He had allowed himself the freedom to scheme over its use, even though he knew it wasn’t his role. And as soon as he did, he realized there were only two choices: either beg his Mistress to pose him thusly, thereby exposing the fantasy for a silly charade, or take matters into his own hands. Yes, he could do the wishful ritual of leaving pictures around the house for her to stumble upon and hope she understood his desire, but again, she would be wrapping a present for herself. Moreover, much like overt begging, it felt like topping from the bottom. If he really was going to do it, he might as well go all the way, consequences be damned.
And the consequences would likely be severe. After all, his plan involved breaking her favorite rule. He had only broken it twice before, and each time had left him with welts that ached for a full week.
When she decided that this year they would drive out to an empty lot beside the freeway for a proper tree, he knew it was time. Usually, they got a tiny plastic tabletop tree, slept in on Christmas, and did their gift exchange in bed. But she had been making noises that they were missing out by not doing the full tree trimming and gift placing of a real tree. She said they were wasting the occasion on something so unmemorable. She wanted to take it more seriously, and when it came to Christmas, he had one serious fantasy.
It took a little doing, and more subterfuge than he was comfortable with. One of the ground rules in their D/s dynamic is that he is permitted no secrets. However, Christmas and birthday presents are one of the few exceptions enumerated in their contract. All the same, as he worked on his plan, he felt a steadily rising sense that he was about to be discovered. He picked up the special bow from a store across town, and the rest of it he got delivered, snatching the boxes out of the mail before she saw them.
They had a big dinner on Christmas Eve with a small group of family and friends. They were tired afterward, tipsy from the host’s liberal pour of holiday cocktails. She locked him into his chastity cage before dinner and didn’t take it off when they got home. Instead, they made out on the couch, and then she ordered him to go down on her until she came three times. When they slipped off to bed, he was careful to set the silent alarm on his watch a full hour earlier than normal.
He barely slept, so intent on rising early, so aware of the rule he was about to break.
She has one rule above all others: he always wears a blindfold when he sleeps. He is not allowed to touch it without permission, except in dire emergencies under penalty of severe pain.
When she put the blindfold over his eyes that night, it filled him with a new electric sense of terror.
—
The alarm buzzing on his wrist wakes him in his blindfold, and he quickly turns it off.
He is instantly alert, even in his darkness, filled with excitement.
It’s Christmas morning!
Then he remembers his fear. He is about the break the most sacred rule. Worried if he hesitates, he will lose his nerve, he forces himself into action.
In total silence, he slithers off the bed. He hears her moan sleepily beside him, and an icicle of terror stabs his heart. But then he feels her roll over, her breathing changing gears as she falls into a deeper sleep.
He quickly crawls to the door and slips into the hall. With each movement, he expects to hear her leap up and catch him in the act.
Once in the hall, he pulls the blindfold off his face.
His fear spikes as he does, and he expects instant retribution. He is certain the first thing he sees will be her, crimson with fury, watching his willful act of disobedience. But she’s not there. She’s still asleep. He could turn around and get back in bed, and she would be none the wiser. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He knows if he is ever to experience this dream, it’s now or never.
He chooses now and suddenly feels flush with anxious arousal.
He scampers down the stairs and makes coffee, both a pot for later, and a double espresso pod for right now. It’s her favorite, served with honey and a splash of cream. When he returns to the bedroom with the coffee, his heart is pounding in his ears. But she’s still asleep, and his rising terror doesn’t wake her.
Then he puts the coffee on the nightstand, with a note that reads, “Santa left you something under the tree.”
Taped to the note is a tiny silver key.
When he steps out the door again, his heart feels so light, so overcome with glee, that he has to grit his teeth to stop from laughing. All the while he feels that ragged childlike fear of the moment before you are caught in hide and seek.
He gathers the supplies and sets to work. First, he dons his ensemble, beginning with a mesh, men’s camisole style shirt in bright red. The mesh is wide enough to catch on his nipples as he moves. Then he steps into fishnet, crotchless boxer briefs, also in red. The open crotch provides clearance for his chastity device. She likes to dress him in a similar black ensemble, so he hopes this one will please her as well. The final touches are his own idea. On his feet go silly elf slippers with toes that curl up into little bells. A red Santa hat finishes the outfit. Before he puts it on, he pins a small plastic sprig of mistletoe to the puffball at its apex.
Then comes the main event. The bow.
It’s a thick red leather belt with a u-shaped ring bolted in the middle. Wide holes punched on either end of the belt slip over the ring to create two loops. Then the shiny patent leather bow slots on top of those and a silver heart shaped lock keeps it all together. He was worried the bow would be impossible to lock himself into, but after some clandestine practice the day before, he found a way. Yes, it required he bind his hands in front of him, not behind as in the photo, but it’s a compromise he’s willing to make.
Now, with a little help from his mouth, he’s able to close the lock with his wrists securely trapped.
He waits in the silence that follows, half expecting her to instantly storm into the room. When she doesn’t, his immediate excitement begins to ebb.
It occurs to him that they were tired last night, she might not be down for hours. While he doesn’t relish this, he considers it a high-class problem, and sitting on the floor in cuffs isn’t that uncomfortable. His mind wanders. He looks around at all the gifts. One is particularly intriguing. It’s from her to him, a thick rectangular box, about the size of a pint glass. He thought at first it was cologne, but he lifted it once, and it felt strangely heavy. No liquid seemed to slosh within. He feels like he knows what it is, but he can’t put his finger on it. Like he’s held that shape before, but lighter.
Then he hears the floor creak from upstairs and knows she’s getting up.
His heart leaps into his throat.
He hears footsteps on the bathroom tile, and then water running in the house pipes.
He thrums with a shot of adrenaline, grateful for the cuffs to still his trembling hands. The five minutes that follow feel like a thousand years.
Then she is walking down the stairs and toward this room.
He huddles beside the tree, as close to under it as he can get, striking a “slave sit” pose he knows she likes.
And then she is standing in the door, sipping her coffee, dressed in her silk robe. She’s smiling, which puts him a little at ease, but there’s something in her smile, some curve that bends dark and foreboding.
“Well, well, well… Someone took off my blindfold.”
“I was trying to surprise you, Mistress.”
“Oh, you did! Look at your pretty bow! You look like the most adorable little street whore. I should make you stand on the sidewalk!”
He both calms and gets more excited as she seems to be playing along. She approaches, going to all fours to crawl onto him, catlike and grinning.
He says, “Did you see to top of my hat? I’m always under the mistletoe.”
She reaches up and flicks the plastic sprig and smiles. He can’t help but focus on her lips. The swollen bulge of them as they part, the wet heat of her breath.
He’s about to say more, but she cradles the back of his head and pulls him to her mouth.
Then they kiss. Her arms fold him deeper and deeper into her. He wants to embrace her too, but his hands are locked in the bow. He feels her sex rubbing over them, feels it through the silk robe. She isn’t wearing panties. A slave knows that when his owner touches part of her body to his bound hands, he is supposed to caress her there. And he does, twisting his wrists in the cuffs to stroke her through her thin clothes. And they are still kissing, and she moans at his touch.
His toes curl in his silly Santa slippers. He’s pretty sure this is already the best Christmas ever.
When they part, she moves her pussy off his hands and bites his lip just enough to make him twitch in pain. Then he gives a big sigh of release.
She says, “This is a wonderful surprise, slave, but I do have some questions. Isn’t this your fantasy? Is it supposed to be a gift for me?”
“Uh… yeah… I’m giving myself to you.”
“But I already own you, slave… So, what are you giving me? How can you give me something that’s already mine?” She says it in the singsongy teasing way she uses when she’s playing with his head. It’s working, he’s suddenly afraid again, sensing her argument will lead to his guilt.
“Uh… I have other presents for you, this is just… It’s symbolic…”
Then she giggles, her tone all patronizing lilt, “It’s okay, I get that it’s a romantic gesture, don’t tire out your little boy mind trying to explain it. I love it, this is my favorite gift ever.”
He glows with relief. “Really, so you’re not mad?”
She coos tenderly then, her hand rubbing his chest through his mesh top, tweaking his perky nipples. Her eyes are round and hungry.
“No, why would I be mad? You’ve given me two wonderful gifts, your sexy ass bound, dressed and ready under my Christmas tree, and something else I like almost as much… A reason to punish you.”
Something in her sunny expression shifts then, and he sees a trace of the malevolent hunger that makes him crave her so. Then she takes one of his cheeks in her palm and slaps the other with her open hand. It’s a hard, deliberate slap, not a quick one, solid and filled with hurt. He sputters with pain afterward, but he has no time to feel it, because she opens her robe to reveal her naked breasts. And then she is guiding him forward, feeding a nipple into his mouth.
She cradles his head as he worships her, taking her fill of his tongue. She moans too, the heat passing between them putting a charge in the air.
“That wasn’t your punishment, by the way, that was just for fun.”
He groans and sucks harder on her stiff nipple, and she gives a deep sigh of elation. She moves his bound hands to her breasts, and he begins to massage them in concert with his suckling. Her eyes flutter a little as he does, savoring his touch. Then she pulls him off her breast and guides him back to her lips. They kiss again, and he melts into her, moaning, greedy to still feel her breasts in his bound hands.
When they part this time, he is dizzy with love for her.
They each take a moment to catch their breath, but then she speaks, “No slave, I can’t be mad at you for getting me a present that’s really for you. I did the same thing.”
She picks up the cologne box and places it in his lap.
“Open it, pet.”
His hands work awkwardly at the paper, and she smirks at his restricted movement.
“Hard to do that with bound hands, isn’t it? I think I’ll have to open the rest of the presents, or else we’ll be here all day. Faster, slut.”
And she reaches into his lap and squeezes his balls, held tight in the chastity cage.
He groans to her delight as the pain throbs into him. But luckily he tears away the paper and pries open the box, and she lets go.
Inside is a frightful new butt plug, thicker and heavier than any he has used before.
He goggles when he sees it. It looks too big to be real. His eyes refuse to believe it. But the weight in his hand, the heft of this bulk of silicone, provides an even more elemental proof of its size, one that he can feel alongside his fear.
She says, “I know, it looks like it’s a gift for you, but really it’s a gift for me. I get a more obedient slave.”
He gasps audibly when she says it, and that makes her giggle more.
“What’s the matter, boy? Does the thought of the big plug scare you?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Well, I bet I know something that will put your mind at ease.”
She reaches into the robes pocket and takes out a silver necklace with two keys. One is the key to the cuffs, and she dangles it before his face.
“Would you feel better about the plug if I unlock those cuffs?” And then she grins wide and holds up the second key, the one that unlocks his chastity. “Or would you rather I unlocked something else?”
She can tell his answer from the hopeful look that dawns on his face. She opens the cage and he’s instantly hard in her hand, and then she’s gently stroking him. He feels his mind floating away with the pleasure of her touch.
“I’m going to let you out of your cage for Christmas. Does that sound nice?”
“Oh yes, thank you, Mistress.”
“But, I’m also going to put in that big plug. The thought of you squirming while I open all our presents is just too delicious to resist. I’m already wet from it.” He’s too turned on by her hand on his cock to react to the terror that floods through him. But when she abruptly stops and takes out a bottle of silicone lube, his terror is all that remains.
“Okay, slave, let’s make some memories.” Then her smile vanishes, and her voice turns as cold as the darkest December night, and she barks, “Present your ass to me, NOW!”
Author’s note, the toy in question comes from The Stockroom. For my money it’s the best BDSM store in the world and you should buy all your toys there.
Here’s a link:
https://stockroom.com/products/patent-leather-bow-wrist-restraint-cuffs-shackles?srsltid=AfmBOoorn9bWyDOsp5rBYjPbS3901SBy2NLnq51tpjftMdYeJQA5a4Wq
Thanks everyone for a fantastic year! I’m on vacation until mid January, but I’ll be back soon with more hot stories to melt winter’s chill. And if you find yourself wanting more while I’m gone, try my book, Captive Weekend. It’s guaranteed to keep you warm all season. I had a lot of fun here this year, and 2026 is going be even better. I hope you’ll share it with me. Happy Holidays!
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