Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, save the woman, as quiet as a mouse,
She lay on the ground, all covered from head to toe in silky lace and black rope,
To please her Master in the morning, being her hope;
Her Master was asleep, all hustled in bed,
No idea of his love’s plans in his head,
No idea that while he slept, she slipped away,
Her mind filled with thoughts of nothing but play, on the coming Christmas day.
When out on downstairs, there arose such a clatter,
The Master jumped up from the bed, to see what was the matter.
Down the stairs, he moved like a flash,
To find to his amusement, his bound love’s failed attempt to the bathroom to dash;
The pale moon’s light landed on her form,
All sprawled out on the floor, limbs aligned much out of the norm.
And at the clearing of his throat, she gave a little jump and squeak,
And in her impressive self-made bindings, he decided to take pity on her, and helped her to her feet;
With a few rubs to her calves, her blood into her legs started to once more flow,
And how ill-advised her attempts to move, she began to know.
With her Master’s watchful eyes, moving from her toes to her head,
She felt her face turn entirely red.
“Well, this is quite the impressive show,
A true work of art, how you’ve bound yourself from head to toe.
You didn’t have to sneak around, though.
If you’d mentioned your plans, I’d have been happy to know.
Not often do I get to watch you work on yourself,
The thought impressive enough in itself,”
He quipped, a big smirk covering his face,
As his hands dipped down, and started to play over her costume of rope and lace.
As his hands roamed around her body so tightly wrapped,
Through the fabric in her mouth, her moans did start to fly,
As her body turned flush, his hands on her most sensitive parts, he did start to play,
Her body helpless to the pleasure of his hands, her own workings keeping her entrapped.
And then, with a groan from her deepest depths,
Her essence was released, panting replacing her breaths.
As he pulled his hand back, her juice glistened on his palm,
And her entire body quivered against her bonds.
He brought his hand up, letting her enjoy her scent,
And it wasn’t long before her tongue moved out to get a long lick.
Her face was the color of cherries, as she partook of her own taste,
And when he pulled his hand back, her lips glistened bright with her love paste.
Her eyes, how they narrowed, a passionate fire giving them light,
And she pulled in many panting breaths, feeling like her head was about to take flight.
Her painted little mouth was drawn up like a sexy bow,
And despite her strict bonds, she got to her knees for repayment in the form of a blow.
She took her Master to her throat, his member quickly brought hard,
And her head began to bob, trying to entice him into giving her further reward.
He gave a small groan, as her mouth covered him in heat,
And he gripped her mane, pulling her at his own pace along his meat.
He found himself quickly peaking, under the warm, sexy friction,
While she bobbed and sucked, trying to bring his fluids into her throat, and her efforts to fruition.
When he felt himself almost at his end, he pulled her away,
And quickly brought her from her knees, not wanting to end so quickly their play..
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled her completely, before her wonderful charms brought him into releasing with a jerk.
Laying his hand, down onto her chest,
He started to play, until she, too, came, with her body, her love, and heat fully expressed..
He lifted her up, taking her up the steps,
The Master tucked her into the bed, her passion showing with her heaving breasts,
And with a loving smile, against her warmth he pressed,
"Merry Christmas dear slave, and now take a good rest.”
