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.The rigid thighs, the helpless moaning.So sweet.A little further decoration and then it would be time to make dinner.Anders hung his slave's labia and nipples with the clamps and ornament-shaped weights that he'd been using all week, this time hanging the bells at the ends.He strung coloured lights across the ceiling from either side of her, down the sling, in a gentle loop between her feet, back under her to her bound hands.When they were turned on he swung her gently, listening to the bells' tinkle and the faint groans at the additional drag of weight on her flesh, and made sure the lights made no contact with skin.Then he turned on some old wassailing songs from the 18th century and went into the kitchen.Every minute or so, between cutting board and saucepan he looked over at his creation.A Pervert's Christmas, he smiled to himself.The lights blinked, and skin and decorations glistened in their multicoloured glow.All the hanging things trembled at his footsteps' vibration.His most recent decoration gazed mesmerized at the tree, into the button eyes of another small dangling red-hatted female figure: her companion piece.***Christmas Eve: a very quiet morning at work.The information centre was closing at the end of my shift.No one was around; even the phone and email requests had dried up.We weren't exactly anyone's go-to destination 299As She’s Told – Anneke Jacobfor last minute gifts.I got my utilization logs up to date.At twelve-fifteen there was a frantic call from a student with a paper on hydrogen engine technology to write over the holidays, and no data to speak of.Fortunately I could mop that one up in half an hour.It was always satisfying to save someone's day, or year in this case.Her grateful relief took up another minute or two.Then it was time to shut the place down and go home.I had my object all packaged up and ready to go.It was awkward to carry, but I'd tied on a couple of makeshift handles, and the thing was lighter than it looked.I was counting on Anders being so deep into food preparation that I'd be able to slip it past him.He'd stayed home to concoct a traditional Danish Christmas dinner.The oven and stovetop had already been full and bubbling when he'd sent me out the door into the cold.Now the temperature was dropping, and fine snow stung my face.I stood in the damp steamy streetcar surrounded by mostly cheerful people loaded down with boxes and bags, trying to keep my package out of the melted slush on the floor.Blocking the erotic trance which called to me, sang to me, every harnessed inch of me joining in on the perfidious siren song.No, I mustn't go there.I forced myself to think about the day I lost track and got out of bounds, and I shuddered.Pay attention, girl.no wandering.Imagine messing up now.Spoiling Christmas.Anders had been teasing me relentlessly, escalating the intensity each day, using every trick in his considerable repertoire.The night before I'd been balanced teetering on the edge five times, maybe six.How I managed to come even close to counting them I don't know, because by the time I was locked away again I'd devolved down into a primitive life form: mindless, incoherent, tormented and howling.Even now I was wearing two plugs beneath the belt; I'd been wearing them to work every day for weeks.The flesh around them was heavy and aching.My nipples, even my lips felt swollen.If my frustration gave Anders pleasure, he'd been especially well served lately.Cautiously I angled my burden through the door of the streetcar, and hefted it along the icy sidewalks, pushed sideways by the sharp wind, gritting my teeth as the gusts played grab-ass with icy fingers beneath my coat.I was glad to get to the end of our street and into the house.The package stayed in the shadows between the two doors while I stripped, shivering, and donned chilly collar and cuffs.As I'd hoped, Anders only sent a greeting over his shoulder; his 300As She’s Told – Anneke Jacobhands were deep in a big bowl.I sneaked the package round the door, tiptoed across the room and shoved it into the shadows behind the tree."What are you up to?" He was behind me, wiping his hands on a dishtowel."Is that for me?"I swung around hastily."Mm.No peeking." My master took hold of my ass with damp hands and pulled me close, his clothes wonderfully warm against my cold bare skin.I inhaled him, all savoury and delicious, and could have gone on consuming him then and there.He kissed me and then straightened up and took a step toward the tree, dragging me with him."No, master, please! You weren't supposed to notice until it was time to open it.""Master knows all, sees all," he droned, waggling one Svengali eyebrow."Anyway, it's a little big to overlook.You sly wench, what have you been up to?""You'll see when you open it.Tonight? Or tomorrow?" Christmas Eve was the Danish night for opening presents, but the North American Christmas-morning-blowout also seemed to be in the cards.All I knew was the meal schedule: the big one was late this afternoon.A hissing noise from the stove drew his attention back to the kitchen, to my relief.I got warmed up in there (and rapidly superheated).My nipples were dipped in lingonberry sauce and sucked clean, which gave us an interesting ten minutes.Then he decorated me: ornaments, bells, hat and all.I stirred a pot of mulled wine called gløgg, and sipped a little.But it hit an empty stomach.Dizzily I moaned that I was starving, and Anders let me have a couple of little cookies to tide me over, in my corner out of harm's way, while he hauled the sizzling goose out of the oven, did things to it and shoved it back in.I mopped spills, wiped counters, fetched and scrubbed potatoes, and tried to subsist on the atmosphere of roasting goose, so thick it was nearly caloric.The light coming through the blinds had faded to dusk when I was at last told to light the candles; he'd set out a couple of dozen of them all over the table and shelves and counters.Then I got to set the table.Two place settings! I was flabbergasted."A special treat for Christmas, hunhund," he said."Christmas dinner requires more than one person at the table, so you'll just have to be a person today.Make sure you mind your manners."So I sat in a chair in that room for the very first time, minding my manners as hard as I could, my naked bottom warming the cool wooden seat, 301As She’s Told – Anneke Jacobmy harnessed breasts and nipple bells brushing the table's edge.I felt like the ship's dog called to the Captain's table.He'd placed me at right angles to him, well within reach of his long arm.Danish Christmas music was playing, lively and almost completely unfamiliar."Okay," he said happily, opening the oven, "here we go!"There was the roast goose and browned potatoes and red cabbage, all of which smelled incredible.I also spotted a bowl full of dark grains."Wild rice and apricot stuffing!" Anders grinned."Have to honour all the traditions.I don't know if it'll taste anything like your mother's.Did she put pine nuts in hers? I thought it needed some pine nuts." It was better than my mother's; it was fantastic.Partway through the meal I groaned and begged him to loosen my harness.He eyed me up and down, wiped his mouth on his napkin and pushed back his chair."All right.Just this once.And only because I don't want your dinner to go to waste.Come here." Keys jingled; he pulled me onto his lap and kissed the spaces between the straps as he loosened them a notch.Then he turned me to face him, my legs straddling his, flicked my nipple bells, and slowly brushed open lips against mine [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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