The cold wind howls against this wintery night. The beautiful wreaths adorn the street lamps with their festive cheer. Even with the nights icy chill, people mill about searching for the perfect gift. Not my master though, he’s given me the most spectacular gift this evening.
I can hear the warm crackle of the fireplace, feeling its soft caress against my bare skin. A delicate black hood eclipses my face. I reach out for my master, but I feel the coarse leather hug my wrist above my head. The clink of a chain pulling me back against the supple leather cross.
A soft giggle sounds in the distance; I turn my head searching for its source. New sounds fill the room, scaring me. And yet I feel a swell of pride. I can hear voices of people murmuring to one another.
“Would you look at her… such beauty… truly a treasure… fine display.”
I do my best to hold myself high in a manner befitting my master. I would never do anything that would bring him shame. I use the support of the cross, keeping my spine straight as I have been taught. I can feel the delight of the crowd as their whispers continue.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this holiday,” my master says full of bravado, “May I present to you my beautiful slut; who has graciously volunteered to be our Christmas tree for the night.”
My master begins to address the voices, but I lose myself in his deep cadence. His voice always holds such sway over me. Luring me in with the richness of its texture, forcing my knees to go weak. With each note my body sings for him, begging his attention.
Already I feel my breasts swell, my desire flowing along my thighs. A shock takes me, as I feel his fingers reach within my folds, coating them in my essence. I can’t help myself as I wither against his touch. But it is not to last. He whispers his approval as he addresses the voices once more.
“I believe it’s time that we start decorating this slut,” he says, as applause and approval ring out among the crowd.
I shiver with such anticipation. I feel the soothing roughness of ropes being dragged across my skin. My master is a talented rigger, creating spectacular designs. He starts just below my breasts as he manipulates the rope into a harness. I hear the murmurs of the voices beating against the fog of my mind. But my master sweeps them away with his touch. My pussy spasms as I feel the rope being dragged across my dripping lips. I wish I could see the intricate design my master has created.
A sharp slap comes across my breast, causing me to cry out. With a rough hand, my master’s palm captures me, rubbing his thumb along my nipple. Before I can respond, he slaps it again sending a shockwave straight to my pussy. Again he massages my breast before delivering another slap. One after the other I am subjected to such tender fury.
Drowning in the sea of his pleasure, I sway against the chains that hold me in place. He gives a sharp tug on my nipple, anchoring me to him. Time stands still as I slowly find my way back. He croons and whispers to me in that sweet timbre, calling me like a siren back to the sea.
I feel sharp pinches as something is attached throughout my body. Faintly I see different colors being played across my hood. I smile inside realizing my master has attached Christmas lights. Circling around me, the heat of his gaze warms me as it rolls across my skin.
A soft kiss is placed upon my neck as he gives me a gentle embrace. Words cannot describe the feeling of peace that washes over me. I shiver and sigh in his arms, wishing it was his cock between the folds of my aching pussy. To feel his weight bearing down as he claims me, knowing the pleasure I bring him.
Sounds of appreciation echo throughout the room. Withdrawing his touch, he ventures somewhere in the darkness. I wait with a sense of longing for my master. Even with the fire roaring, I feel the coldness of his absence. I try to focus on the sounds of the fire, willing its warmth to fill me until my master returns. A gentle hand returns to my hip, steadying me. I breathe a soft sigh, reveling in his touch.