Don’t be fooled by the title. This story is in the right category.
It breaks one of the taboos of erotic fiction so I’m fairly sure that I’ll never see it in print, although Greg Wharton was brave enough to publish it on Suspect Thoughts
No one notices a man in a Santa suit on Christmas Eve. You didn’t. Not even when I followed you out to your car. Last minute Christmas shopping at the mall. The place so crowded you’ve had to park right out here at the edges.
I saw you park when you came in. I knew you were the one, my Christmas Eve. Looks like you were on your way to a party after you got those last few items. The coat may be long and warm but that dress is way short. I love those simple strapless frocks. I’m glad you do too.
As you reach your car and open the trunk I ring my bell behind you. “Ho Ho Ho, Meeeeerrrrry Christmas” I say as you turn towards me.
Maybe it’s the white hair and the beard but you don’t recognise me. You give me a weary look and reach for your purse. Give the man a dollar and make him go away.
As you look down I throw the sack over your head and pull it all the way over you. As the drawstring closes around your ankles you fall forward over my shoulder. One push and you’re in the trunk. The car keys are still in the trunk lock.
I start the engine of your car and fall into the Bing Crosby routine that used to irritate you so much. “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, spent with a girl I used to know…”
The damned sack is too tight to move in. This has to be a joke right. What else can it be? A surprise party. A Santa Gram. I’ll kill the girls when I meet them. This is going too far, setting me up like this.
“LET ME OUT.LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU ASSHOLE”.
All that’s going to get me is a sore throat. No one can hear as we move through traffic. Maybe when he stops at a junction. Shit he’s turned the radio up so loud no-one will here me. Jesus I hate carols on the radio.
We’re stopping. Now let’s sort this crap out. Enough is enough. From the angle we must’ve turned into a driveway. That’s the trunk opening. “LET ME OUT OF HERE NOW DO YOU HEAR ME”. That smell. What the hell is that smell…
The chloroform worked like a dream even through the sack. One minute its little miss firecracker, the next its goodnight sweetheart. I’m a genius.
Your house hasn’t changed much since I left. You really go to town on the decorations. I knew you’d have a large tree.
Now its time to wrap my Christmas present.
My throat is so dry. What the fuck? I can’t move. My legs are bent back and my wrists are tied to my ankles behind my back. I’m naked. What the hell is going on here?
An amplified voice says “Ho Ho Ho little girl. You’re on TV”.
Santa. The sack. Shit, what is this?
My head is clear now. This is my living room I’m under the tree. But the TV has been moved to the centre of the room and there’s a video camera that definitely isn’t mine perched on top of it.
There, on the screen… Oh fuck.
The expression on your face; it was worth it for that alone. But then you always did look wonderful.
The hog-tie would hold. You would know that. You’ve been tied like that before.
Your breasts are just starting to change colour where I’ve tied the tinsel tightly around the base of each tit.
The crowning glory is the holly wrapped around the top of each thigh. The points of the leaves are pressing into your flesh. The green of the leaves and the red of the berries look so festive against your skin.
I watch you taking this all in as you see yourself on TV. This is going to be fun.
“Even from here I can tell your cunt is wet”
The amplifier still disguises my voice.
You wriggle charmingly. I always liked the way you wriggled.
Let’s see if you still make the same noise when you come.
Shit this holly hurts.
But he’s right, my cunt is wet.
I almost recognise that voice. But it can’t be. He’s still in Japan.
Look at my tits in that tinsel.
God my nipples are so fucking hard. What is wrong with me? Why does it always get me like this?
I haven’t done anything like this since…
Shit it is him. It must be.
When you stiffen and look squarely at the camera I know you’ve figured it out. Time for my grand entrance.
“Remember me? Remember all the little games we used to play? Remember how you used to beg me to enter you? Well I’m back. Happy to see me?”
Your face is like thunder.
“How dare you do this to me, you shit” you spit at me.
“Shhh – quiet now or I’ll have to gag you and you wouldn’t like that.”
We both know you wouldn’t like that because afterwards I would hurt you until you were screaming into the gag.
“I have some presents for you.”
I produce the nipple clamps. Each one has two little sleigh bells attached.
“My, but your nipples are hard. Are they still as sensitive as ever?”
I twist one nipple hard and you groan more in pleasure than pain.
“My favourite painslut”.
“Please don’t do this” you say, quietly, all rant gone.
I run my finger between you wet cunt lips and then wipe them under your nose.
“You don’t mean that” I say.
I fasten the clamps to your nipples, then flick your clit with my middle finger.
As you bounce in your bonds the bells ring merrily.
“Now for my second gift. I picked this up in Japan. You’ll like it. It’s Rudolf the rednosed vibrator.”
Your eyes widen in disbelief…
The fucking thing is ten inches long. The two inches at the tip light up as a garish red nose. Oh shit it rotates. The fucking nose rotates. But it’s the antlers that get me. Little reindeer antlers, one for the clit and one for the arsehole. My thighs are trembling just looking at it.
“Please” I say. “Please”.
But I’m not sure whether I mean please stop or please don’t stop, and you know it.
You always knew it.
It slips into you easily. Listen to those bells ring as that head starts to rotate. I kiss your mouth.
“Glad to see me? Just like old times isn’t it?”
You call me foul names but your heart isn’t in it. Your cunt is starting to rule your head.
I never could resist his cock in my mouth. I want it. I need it.
I hate him but I need his fucking cock in my mouth.
God. God. So good. So humiliating. But so fucking amazingly good.
The old magic is still there. You always knew how to play tunes on my cock. Mmmmm that is so good. YESSSSSSSSS. Swallow my cum. Swallow it all. Good girl. You always were a good girl.
I start to hum the Meatloaf song you hated “Good girls go to heaven/ but bad girls go everywhere.” Of course I changed the words to come everywhere. Is there anywhere I didn’t make you come?
Your lips release my softening cock. Your eyes are closed. You’re into it now. I sit beside the video camera and watch your climax build as Rudolf lights up your sleigh tonight. The batteries should be good for an hour. Let’s see how long you can take.
You are bouncing now. Screaming your cum. No words just lust. I switch off the vibrator and loosen the tinsel on your tits.
As your senses return I lean into your ear and whisper. “Merry Christmas, Sis” and then kiss your mouth.
It’s good to be home for the holidays.
© Mike Kimera 2000 All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from firstname.lastname@example.org
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