Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

He bowed his head as I circled him. Slowly. Deliberately. He didn’t move. He was a perfect statue of obedience. “It is the season for giving, isn’t it, pet?” I whispered. He shivered. “But you know I don’t give things away. I take them. And you are mine to take.”

I picked up the items I had laid out on the high table. First, the ribbon. Not the flimsy kind, but thick, expensive satin. I used it to bind his wrists behind his back, pulling the knot hard until I heard a faint, satisfying moan. I tied his ankles together next, ensuring he couldn’t even shift his weight without fighting the slippery silk. He was perfectly secured, kneeling like a forgotten ornament.

He was a perfect statue of obedience.

I took a length of heavy, green velvet cord, the kind used to hang important decorations, and fastened it around his neck. I pulled him back slightly by the cord, forcing his head up so he had to look at me. His eyes were wide, desperate, and beautiful. He did not look away. Not even once.

“This is your holiday uniform,” I told him, tapping his cheek lightly with one gloved finger. I stepped back to admire my work. He was wrapped, restricted, and completely powerless. The blinking colored lights I had draped around the room cast dark shadows and flashes of colour all over him. He almost looked like a Christmas tree.

I left him there, kneeling in the dark, restricted by velvet and satin. I left him there while I had lunch and got my nails done. They looked like little candy canes. I left him all day to sit with his swirling thoughts, not knowing when I’d be back. My holiday joy is his silence. My perfect gift is his submission.

Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322

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