Thursday, December 6, 2012

A One Horse Open Sleigh

Eat your heart out Keri.  This is your fault, and yes, I blame you. 

            It was unseasonably warm for December when I knocked on Kari’s door, and to be perfectly honest, I was totally fine with that.  Usually I prefer the cooler temperatures that come with winter, even in South Texas. A heat wave had pretty much baked Houston to the point that I was not only comfortable standing there nude, but liked it.  The late afternoon sun sparkled in the distance and since I was well hidden behind the massive oleander bush that blocks the view to over half of Kari’s front stoop, I was cool.

            It was a little unusual though for Kari to answer the door herself.  I’m used to Robert, her live-in boy-toy, sex slave, and dare I say it, house-husband, coming to the door, his muscular and very naked body on display.  I like grabbing his cock when I come in, squeezing it and giving him just enough nookie to keep him straining.  Call me cruel, but it sometimes comes naturally to me.

            But it was Kari and she smiled at me with this wicked look that had me mentally saying “uh oh,” before she even reached out, grabbed the golden, rose emblazoned padlock that hung from right nipple.  She twisted it a half turn to the right, sending shards of discomfort up through my breast and pulled me and my canvas bag into her condo, all without a word.

            She had decorated for Christmas.  There was a designer tree in the corner all in blue and white, which I thought looked ridiculous.  My family’s tree is multicolored and all our ornaments are little toys that we’ve collected throughout the years. Lots of great memories.  Kari’s tree looked like one decorated for a department store.  It was pretty, but lacked the personal touches that make a tree special.  Of course there were three ornaments on the tree that were well hidden, but unique.   All three I had given her and I was pleased to see them.  One was this beautiful crystal snowflake that I had fallen in love with one day while we were visiting Fredricksburg.  The second was a cast resin, but hand-painted model of a Texas Cowgirl, with long red hair, wearing a short, short denim skirt, a plaid shirt tied up at the midriff, with large breasts, boots, cowgirl hat, and if you were naughty and turned her upside down, some nineteen year old nympho humiliation pain slut had actually painted in a rather obvious anatomically correct slit, clearly stuffed with a vibrator, with a small but diabolical clothespin strategically attached to her clit.

            Yes. I can even make Christmas naughty. 


This tale is no longer available on Michael Alexander's BDSM Blog, but can be found in Breanne Erickson's book "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Vol. 7"  Click here to check out our sample page and take a look at the amazing work of Breanne Erickson!


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