Continued from chapter one, which can be found here
Waking up on holidays was a uniquely delicious experience. Especially when one is waking up on Christmas Eve morning.
One slumbers on, gradually accruing awareness until achieving a sort of floating wakefulness. Errant thoughts might cross one’s mind, thinking of a normal schedule, of the need to arise and prepare for work or school. One might even reflect on the long list of chores that must be tackled. And then, gloriously, the dominant thought of holidays intrudes. One is reminded that all of that stressful activity can be safely shelved. That the bed and covers can remain occupied until, in one’s own good time, the day is confronted. And that even more so, that wondrous and special evening will draw ever closer, folding all within a merry and joyous experience. Consciousness retreats, wakefulness retires, and slumber once more claims one’s mind.
Peter’s mind of course, could not entirely retreat. Not when there were so many untested, abnormal sensations crowding about for his attention.
He blinked. Blinked again. The darkness did not retreat, reminding his still sleep fogged brain that he was in fact still tightly blindfolded.
He licked his lips. Tried to lick his lips. His mouth remained immovable, his tongue forcibly depressed by a large rubber object in his mouth. He was…gagged? Still gagged. His tongue explored the rubber protrusion that was lodged in his mouth. A ball? Yes, some sort of large slightly squishy rubber ball filled his mouth. He could feel more material…more rubber or…or leather? More of it was plastered across the front of his mouth, a panel of sorts, keeping the ball firmly in place.
Peter tried to rise then, and grunted into his gag as he felt the stricture of bondage impose itself on his conscious mind. It wasn’t just the feeling of being wrapped up in blankets, he was truly wrapped up. Straitjacketed in slick rubber that covered his entire torso. The sensuality of the material, the way it tightened and hugged Peter’s arms and body, suddenly sent very clear signals down to Peter’s nether regions. This was so damn hot, and he had never dreamed…
Peter let out another grunt, this time filled with frustration and discomfort as he felt his swelling member suddenly run up hard against the confines of cool metal. He moaned into his gag as his mind grappled with the many implications streaming in from his senses. Bound. Gagged. Blindfolded, and locked in some sort of infernal cock control device. What in the actual hell…?
“Mmmmmm…morning…” a soft voice purred from next to him. Recognition shot through Peter, and with it came memories. That was Wendy’s voice. Wendy…her mother…an offer of bondage…and a whole kink household…
“Gggrrmmmmpppphhhh…” Peter mumbled, shuddering in his bonds as the recollection of the previous day surfaced in his brain. He was a captive of his best friend, placed there by her matchmaking mother. His best friend…who had apparently had a crush on him since childhood. A crush that she was now able to pursue to her hearts content, what with his helpless captivity to her.
More memories returned. She had brought him down to the basement last night, both of them blushing and bashful, though Wendy at least seemed to temper those feelings with a degree of eager confidence that Peter had found rather attractive. The gawky, tomboy Peter had remembered had evolved. Matured into a confident young woman, still brash and hard charging in all things…save when it came to Peter.
Had he not been caught up in the surreal nature of what was going on, Peter might have clued into what was happening with Wendy at the time. But all he could see was her eager eyes, her hungry smile, and the feel of his helplessness in his bondage. Yet she had been gentle. Gentle to the point of treating Peter as though he might break. Or vanish. Hands that had trembled with some mixture of elation, nerves, and lust, had oh so gently massaged him on the bed. Had changed out his upstairs bondage for the more comfortable straitjacket he now wore, and had caressed and sensually gropped him until he was breathing heavily into his gag.
But that had been the extent of her amorous explorations. At least, such was Peter’s recollection. They had fallen asleep like that, her cuddling him in his restrained state, for all the world as though this was some normal couple thing.
He grunted again as he felt a warm body press into him, Wendy winding herself around his stretched out form. He felt an arm wrap around him, its hand settling against his chest, her legs snaring his own, and her other hand settling on his inner thigh. He shivered, moaning softly into his gag as he felt a gentle kiss press against his jaw.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this…” Wendy’s voice, still thick with sleep, was a low husky murmur as she kissed him again and again along his jawline and throat. His throat…above and below the collar that was still locked there. Her collar, around his neck. Gaaaaaaah.
“I swear, that entire time away at uni…away from you, away from our games…I dreamed about you every night.” Wendy caressed his ear, nibbling gently on the lobe, “Kicking myself for not saying anything…wilting under any indication I’d have the chance to say anything…I was a right mess.” Her arms tightened around Peter for a moment, squeezing with gentle firmness as though he might dissipate in her arms. Fritter away into nothingness like a dream. He mumbled into his gag, something vaguely reassuring he thought, and the grip lessened a little.
“I have two wonderful roommates, did I ever tell you?” Wendy asked, her head now nestled into the crook of Peter’s shoulder and neck. Her hands had resumed caressing and stroking his straitjacketed torso, gently enjoying and playing with his slickly covered body, “They helped…expand…my horizons. Show me the possibilities of our little games from childhood, and what new experiences we could try together. I think you’ll really like them once you meet them.”
Peter mumbled again, vaguely appreciative as his mind remained firmly concentrated on the wonderful sensation of Wendy’s hands moving over his body. He’d hardly dared ever to think of her in this way, as something more than best friends. It was why when she’d brought him downstairs yesterday evening, and flung him onto the bed, he had still been entirely shellshocked at his good fortune. Such that she must have noticed, or simply been experiencing it a fair bit herself, and their activities last night had been largely Wendy showering him with affectionate touches, and murmured words, and caresses. Peter had fallen asleep, captivated by more than just his bondage.
“…still can’t believe my mom did this for me. For us.” Wendy continued, breaking Peter out of his reflections, “I just…” Her arms tightened around him once more, “I never thought we’d, y’know, get to this part…” One hand trailed down to grip his chastity locked cock, and Peter moaned.
“MmEeeehh meeifer,” Peter mumbled into the large ball in his mouth, blindly trying to turn his head towards Wendy and making little whiffling sounds into his gag. He couldn’t recall when precisely the metal constriction around his cock had been put in place, but he already desperately wanted to be free of it. His best friend, now turned captor, ignored the half hearted plea for release though, and simply snuggled into him again.
“Well I’m glad she did it. I’m glad you’re here.” Wendy’s two simple sentences, and the deep well of gratitude that underlay them, did much to further allay any doubts Peter had in his mind. Yes this was all a bit much, yes Wendy’s mother Lisa had gone too far perhaps…but the end result was not something Peter was going to argue with for now. He was wrapped in the arms of his best friend and long time crush…and she had to let him out enough to talk at some point. He mentally reassured himself on that point, even as his body’s siren call to simply give in and enjoy the tight, warm sensation of bondage and snuggles carried through his mind.
For now that was enough.
Wendy and Lisa, it seemed, were the only truly free members of the Morgen household.
Wendy had kept him in the basement for several hours, just caressing and snuggling and generally making Peter feel like he was the entirety of her world. It was a heady experience indeed, especially when she had gently removed the blindfold, and he got to see her grinning face once more. Eventually though some remembered duty called, and she leashed him, ankle cuffed him, and gently coaxed Peter up out of the bed, and carefully up the basement stairs Out of the dungeon, and back into the surreally normal Morgen household’s main floor.
Wendy led Peter upstairs, half helping him along as he negotiated walking without the aid of his arms, and with a reduced stride from his clinking chains. He was so concentrated on the sensations of his bondage, and of the careful need to watch his step, that he only dimly realized where they were headed before Wendy barged through a door off the main upstairs hallway. Into her sister’s room.
Lizzy’s room had changed as well, the pink princess motif still existent though now flavoured with metal band posters, niche gaming community knick-knacks, and a large dog cage near the closet. The Morgens hadn’t owned a dog for a number of years now, though the cage was hardly suspicious by itself. Not something that most would bat an eye over if they were invited over, especially since Lizzy would no doubt regale them with her plans for acquiring a pet. So brimming with excitement, Lizzy’s guests would perhaps fail to note how her descriptions of training, and planning for keeping said pet fit just as well for a human one as a canine. Though in fairness, the cage’s present occupant was no doubt much more fully aware of that now.
Lizzy’s British friend was lying in the cage, manacled and fettered at the wrists and ankles, with a shiny metal chastity belt locked on for good measure. She remained hooded from last night, and Peter could only faintly hear her moans and groans as the vibrators under the chastity belt purred their teasing selves along in time with whatever audio files she was still listening to from Lisa Morgen. Her collar was chained to the top of the cage, the chain lead with plenty of slack to allow her to move and shift within the cage as she pleased. But there was no escape, no retreat from the fact of her captivity.
Peter absently wondered if she too were making peace with her captivity. Was she similarly retreating from her initial reaction of shock, dismay, and outrage? Was she slipping beneath the Morgen spell? Or was this something that she had secretly hoped for when Lizzy had invited her over? Had she known when she stepped through the front door that she was likely to end up in collar, cuffs, and hood? That she stood an excellent chance of spending the entire Christmas holidays in servitude to her friend’s mother?
Speaking of that friend…Peter’s eyes flickered to the other side and he let out a moan into his gag at the sight.
Facing the cage, lashed tightly to a chair with rope, was Lizzy Morgen. She had been allowed pyjama bottoms, and a very frilly bra for her pleasantly sized breasts. Her legs had been spread and strictly bound to the chair at the ankles, calves, and thighs. More rope festooned her heaving chest, and pulled her arms into a strict strappado position. Peter winced at the strictness. Even knowing that Lizzy was an accomplished gymnast, being in such a strict tie all night had to have been hard. Especially with the large vibrator buzzing between her legs, edging her repeatedly as she watched her friend writhe before her…just out of reach.
But the eyes she turned towards Wendy and Peter, shining over top of her ball gag, were not angry or desperate for release. Instead, sheer desire and lust radiated from her twin orbs, accompanied by deep almost guttural growls of intense need.
Not that this seemed to have any effect on Wendy who hooked Peter’s leash onto a mount by the door, and strode business-like into the room.
“Lefff eeee guuoooooooo!!” Lizzy growled, her eyes darting back and forth between Wendy and her captive English belle.
“Rules are rules Lizzy,” Wendy casually remarked, grabbing a key off the desk behind Lizzy to unlock the cage, “Mom’s not gonna let you miss out entirely on playing with your friend, but you needed reminding about the importance of self control.”
Lizzy growled again into her gag and began fighting against her ropes. Wendy sighed, stood up from where she had been about to unlock the cage, and walked over to her struggling sister. She gathered Up Lizzy’s hair in one hand and yanked the girl’s head back in one smooth firm motion. Peter’s eyes widened and he and Lizzy let out a moan at the same time.
Wendy stared into her sister’s eyes, “Is she someone special? Girlfriend material?”
Lizzy blushed a deep red, her eyes flitting around and returning only to meet Wendy’s own when the older Morgen daughter gave her head of hair another yank, ”Uuaaagh! Effff!”
“Mmmmm,” Wendy gave the occupant in the cage a more considering look, and then returned her gaze to her sister, “Well then this is a lesson in need of learning. You nearly ruined Mom’s plan that gave me Peter. Do you really think I’m gonna short circuit her discipline schedule?”
Lizzy blushed again, though this time more out of embarrassment than arousal.
“If you’re going to date, if you’re going to wrap a collar around someone’s neck eventually, then you need self-control. Properly caring for and training a submissive is important.” Wendy reached down a gave the d-ring at the front of Lizzy’s collar a tug, “This means that Mom still isn’t sure you are prepared for that responsibility. So unless you want to spend the entire holiday in bondage while Mom uses your maybe-girlfriend as a maid, I’d make sure you do some thinking.”
Lizzy mumbled into her gag, nothing that Peter could determine had any meaning, but Wendy softened her grip on the girl’s hair and gave her a hug, “I know you didn’t mean to Lizzy, and I love your enthusiasm for this sort of thing. Goodness knows I was the same growing up. But if you want this…”
Lizzy nodded and nuzzled her head into Wendy’s embrace for a moment before gasping and moaning, her vibrator not having stopped.
“Oh. Right.” Wendy flicked the offending electrical device off, and Lizzy let out a deep moan, torn between denied pleasure, and grateful relief. Wendy patted her on the head, and then returned to the cage, unlocking it and swinging the door open wide, “Now, I’m gonna go settle your little foreign friend downstairs. Keep an eye on my sweetheart for me would you?”
Lizzy rolled her eyes and burbled into her gag, looking over and giving Peter a wink while she shimmied in her bonds.
The English visitor was hauled out, mumbling and moaning into her gag while Wendy stood her up and leashed her. A set of bondage mittens were applied to keep her fingers contained, and then Wendy was breezing out of the room with the young woman, taking a moment to plant a deep kiss on Peter’s gag. He flushed and moaned, she groped his rear a little, and then trooped off to the main level with her clinking slave girl in tow.
Peter was left hobbled in place, unable to simply flick the catch that held his leash in place. So easily reduced to helplessness. Lizzy for her part fairly bubbled in her bonds, her frustration at her predicament seemingly smoothly giving way to excitement once more at seeing Peter done up in bondage and firmly ensconced within the Morgen household. Peter wondered at when this change had occurred. Kink had clearly been a major ongoing thing between Mrs and Mr Morgen for some time, but while he racked his brains he couldn’t recall a single instance beyond Lisa Morgen’s invitation that one summer day, and the various games he and Wendy had played. Nothing that had really spoken to some deeper experience with the harder, blunter sorts of domination and bondage that had been on display.
Perhaps he’d get a chance to ask, if the women in this house ever allowed him a word in edgewise. He flexed his arms as best he could in his straitjacket, moaning softly as the slick feeling of the material sent little fissions of pleasure racing up his torso.
Soon enough though the soft padding tread of Wendy’s bare feet perked his ears up. He turned around in the doorway as best he could, looking down the hallway as his friend…his captress, mounted the stairs. Her face, clearly in the middle of some deep inner thought, broke out into a brilliant sunny smile as soon as she caught sight of him. Peter began squirming anew, blushing bright red. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that he awoke such feelings in Wendy, having gone so long with at best believing that such thoughts were one-sided. Yesterday had truly been a blur, but this morning…waking up as he had…the care that she had shown him, and had shown Lizzy…spoke very well indeed of her intentions.
“Ready for some relaxing Christmas movies?” Wendy asked, running a hand along Peter’s hip as she drew abreast of him, “All of us together while Mom and Dad enjoy a morning off.”
Peter managed a nod, her warm eyes snaring his own.
“Unnnggh,” Lizzy groaned theatrically, “Geeff uh uuuhm.”
“Heh, sorry sis. Lots more of this to come.” Wendy gave Peter’s butt a squeeze and then breezed past him to begin untying her sister from the chair, “Anyway, unless you don’t want to be tied up next to your English princess, I’d be nicer to me and Peter…”
“Uuufff??” Lizzy squealed, blushing and bouncing up and down, “Eeeeff! Iifffe eexxff uuuoo eeerrhh!!”
“Only if you quit that and behave while I get you down there,” Wendy muttered with some exasperation as Lizzy’s bouncing nearly tipped the chair over. The younger woman quieted down at that, allowing Wendy to finish unbinding her from the chair and attach a set of ankle shackles to her bubbly younger sister. Lizzy’s torso remained lashed tightly with rope, and her arms remained practically welded together behind her. Neither sister seemed to treat her extremely demanding position as anything out of the ordinary.
Wendy gathered up Peter by the leash, clipped another leash to Lizzy’s collar, and led the two captives out of the room and downstairs to the main living room area. The English girl was already ensconced on the couch in front of the television. Her shackles replaced with leather cuffs and straps that traced her into a snug but not overly harsh hogtie. A cock gag had been firmly buckled into place, though her hood and blindfold removed, and Peter could at last see the soft brown eyes and slightly wild expression that no doubt had its twin on his own face. This was a woman overcome with desire and lust, but one who was also utterly adrift after approximately 24 hours as a Morgen household captive.
Who knew what she’d be like after a week…or two…?
Peter chanced a glance over at Lizzy as Wendy brought them both into the room, and couldn’t help but quirk a smile around his gag. Lizzy was laser focused on her friend, her eyes betraying a steamy, zesty lust as she squirmed in her strict rope bondage. Wendy grabbed her by the arm and half pushed her over onto the couch, letting her partially flop onto her friend where she let out a pleased sigh. It was the work of further minutes for Wendy to position her next to the English girl, with hips touching, before placing her in a tight rope hogtie. Lizzy looked up at her sister, winked, and then let out a low, long moan while she squirmed…placing her in even closer proximity to her friend. Her friend, who elected to return the tentative bondage snuggling with a groan of her own, brown eyes darting up at Wendy, over at Lizzy, and then closing for a moment as she wriggled in tighter to an eager Lizzy.
Wendy grinned down at them both, yanked Peter in closer by the leash, and then collapsed onto the couch next to Lizzy, pulling Peter down onto her lap. He squirmed, shuddering with embarrassed pleasure as Wendy’s questing hands found his caged member and his nipples, and he let out a moan of his own as she happily set to teasing him once more. Peter barely heard the television switch on, nor the opening to one of the more well-known traditional Christmas cartoons. He was far too consumed with his breathing, with the sensation of Wendy’s fingers playing about his body, and with the little growls and sounds of desire coming from behind him. Of Wendy’s teeth nibbling gently on his ears, or against his neck. The strictness of the collar being made manifest with every pull and tug that she gave it, reminding Peter over and over of his status as her prisoner. Her captive. Her…love?
He flushed at that, but could not deny the hold such a concept had on his brain. He had awoken yesterday from whatever concoction that Lisa Morgen had delivered to him in a panic. He’d wanted nothing more than an escape from the weird world into which he had plunged. Yet…yet Wendy’s depth of feeling for him, and her exquisite care and concern, had blown virtually all such thoughts away. He’d never truly thought that harm would come to him, and now something much greater and infinitely desirable seemed to be in the offering.
Peter groaned as Wendy gripped him gently by the hair, dragging him backwards to trail kisses along his jawline and cheek. Next to them, Lizzy had contrived to squirm in such a way that she could press her face to her English friend’s own…and deliver some purr’ing snuggles of her own which appeared to be getting reciprocated. But Peter could spare them no more than a glance as his own eyes lidded and then squeezed shut as Wendy began sensually stroking his caged cock, whispering little reassuring phrases into his ear. Delivered with such feeling and husky desire, that Peter’s brain just…shut…down. He quietly ushered the eloquent and verbal elements of his mind towards a small room in the back, placed them inside, and surrendered himself to sensation. Thinking could be done…later.
Hours passed. Hours of bliss and thoughtless enjoyment…
Christmas Eve with the Morgens.
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Morgen house…several creatures were stirring, and probably a mouse.
Upstairs, Lizzy had indeed been rewarded, at least in part, by a forgiving Lisa Morgen. After a long and heartfelt conversation, Lisa had promised her daughter that Lizzy would be unbound, and most especially uncollared, on Christmas Day. Allowing her to play to her heart’s content with the best present of all…her English princess.
As such Lizzy was carefully tucked away in her own bed, the lightest of bondage applied to her. Simple cuffs kept her in a loose spreadeagle on her bed, with a soft cleave gag muffling her in only the broadest sense, along with a leather blindfold to keep her from peaking. After all, Santa still had to deliver her present, and it would do no good to have the ‘surprise’ ruined. For the English girl had been spirited away after dinner, with Lisa Morgen brooking no arguments to the contrary from her daughter or from the girl herself.
English had been locked away in Lisa’s closet, though not before being dressed in an extremely attractive and sensually appealing santa elf costume. She was kept shackled and manacled, the tight pressure of steel around wrists, ankles, waist, and throat, and secured inside the large and much more comfy cage that was resident in the Morgen parents’ closet. Usually it held Mr Morgen if Lisa wanted him locked away…tonight it held a very special Christmas present.
Hours from now, before the sun had yet brightened the sky, English would be removed from the cage and hustled down to where the stockings were hung by the ceremonial fireplace, and tied down in place to await a bubbly and squealing Lizzy. English would get to submit to her friend in a controlled environment, with Lisa able to exercise a degree of restraint on her ever eager and zealously kinky younger daughter. Christmas Day would prove to be the true test for whether Lizzy would get to exercise her dominance on a more enduring basis…or if she would be re-collared and bound for Boxing Day. Were that to occur, English would indeed be serving Lisa as her pretty little maid for the rest of the several weeks off that her and Lizzy both had.
Though such an event seemed rather unlikely given the intensity with which Lizzy had evidenced to Wendy and her mother. If self-control was what was required to get her the girl, then self-control was what she would bring to bear.
In any event, both girls slumbered on, dreaming the dreams of eager young kinksters. Both in their own way looking forward to the morning. One eager to prove herself. The other, in a different yet rather endearingly similar way, blushingly eager to see her friend once more. For English could not help but pick up on the way that Lizzy had been looking at her, and touching her, and trying desperately to spend every second she could pressed up against her. And the shy foreign student had been rather flattered all things considered. Indeed, the past day plus as an at first unwilling captive, and then increasingly as a pleasure prisoner, had opened the English girl’s mental eyes to the wonderful world of BDSM and kinky fun. Moreover, she was surprised to discover, she returned Lizzy’s still as yet unspoken affections rather strongly.
Christmas Day would bring all manner of pleasant and enjoyable discoveries for the pair of young women.
Down the hall from where Lizzy squirmed and dreamed of her English princess, Mr and Mrs Morgen lay in blissful contentment. Well, certainly Lisa Morgen lay in blissful contentment, her arms wrapped around her husband and sleeping the sleep of the well satiated and satisfied. Mr Morgen, by contrast, slept the fitful sleep of the frustrated and the forcefully chaste. Her promise of pleasure to Mr Morgen had indeed been granted, though only partially. When she had spirited him upstairs last evening it had indeed been to unlock him, and to allow him the pleasure and privilege of sexual pleasure with his dominant and utterly in control wife. Yet he had not been allowed to climax. Not yet, though he drove Lisa to a pair of panting, groaning orgasms of her own.
No, Mr Morgen had to wait until Christmas morning too.
And so there he lay, this supremely patient, frustrated, achingly wanting man. Changed out of his normal slick gimp suit into the red and green Christmas-y one that Lisa had custom made and ordered two years back. Gagged with a bright red ballgag, strapped tightly down with thick belts, alternating between green and red. His straining, desperate cock still locked up tightly in its cage. A decently sized butt plug purring away in his backside, keeping him at a delightful simmer for his randy, lusty wife in a few hours time. Mr Morgen would not be getting a good night’s sleep, though Lisa was sure to make it up to him and then some when she did finally allow his cock to taste temporary freedom.
She had a rare ability, his wife did, to make the strictest and tightest of bondage, control, and enforced submission, feel like a terribly fun and arousing game. Lisa could make de facto slavery feel utterly exhilarating the way that she doled out attention, pleasure, and discipline in carefully measured amounts. It helped of course, that he was her only true submissive. The one on whom she could lavish her wanton appetites and attentions. Mr Morgen never lost the lust-fueled flame, the unquenchable arduous desire for his wife. And Lisa made sure that on those occasions that he earned his release, that such release was accomplished in the most mind-blowing fashion.
Thus, at an hour and time that only Lisa knew for sure, Mr Morgen would be awoken from his half-slumber. There would be kisses and touches at first, followed by the purr and buzz of vibrators. The pinching of clips and clamps, the fastening of rings and rubber bits and bobs, the clink and click of locks snapping and unsnapping. The slow teasing strokes that would rapidly achieve erection…and then the games would truly begin. He would be the sole focus of Lisa Morgen, the totality of her care, skill, and attention lavished upon his strictly bound and utterly helpless body. She would bring him to the edge, over and over, playing his pleasure and his aching cock like the skilled musician of the human form that she was. She would draw gasping promises from him, grunted and groaned desperate pledges of whatever she pleased. And then, at last, she would mount her husband and ride him to a titanic mutual climax.
After which, it would be time for her to deliver the English girl down below, and allow him to recover as best he could. And when she returned it would be to remove his hood and gag. To kiss him, and to murmur sweet affections for the love of her life. To caress him and reassure him of her love and devotion, as he slowly found his way back down from the heights she had taken him to. Once he had been comforted, and reassured, and cared for…once his breathing had stabilized and his body had ceased to quiver with aftershocks of pleasure, she would carefully and gently re-cage his cock. She would wipe away his sweat and secure a clean hood overtop of his face. She would stare into his eyes, radiating love, and press the large cock gag back into his mouth, before finally sealing his achingly adorable eyes away again behind the blindfold. Returning her love to his full gimp state, ready for another day.
Ready for Christmas Day.
And at last, our story comes to our two new lovebirds. Not yet at the point of the intense bedroom games of Mr and Mrs Morgen, yet past the point of declared feelings that has yet to occur with Lizzy and her English girl.
For down below, in the bowels of the dungeon basement that Lisa had constructed, Wendy and Peter were at last together.
Peter had been returned to an armbinder, at least for a part of Christmas Eve. Wendy had taken him down and gently explained what she wanted to do. That Peter’s cock, only recently caged to demonstrate Wendy’s control over it, would be unlocked…provided that they did it according to the schedule that Wendy had concocted.
Peter had knelt by the bed, the leash to his collar held in Wendy’s hand, while he watched her wide eyed as he squirmed in the armbinder.
“I want us to have a special time, our first time together,” Wendy had said, only a faint blush covering her cheeks as she embarked on a clearly partially rehearsed speech. One foot had teased his caged cock gently, while the other slowly rose and fell as it traced along his naked chest.
“So we’re going to have our first time Christmas morning, you and I. You’ll get your first true sexual experience with me, on a very special day. And always remember Christmas Day as the best time of the year,” she had giggled, “Because that was when you officially became my boyfriend. My submissive, adorable, gorgeous, boyfriend.”
Peter had flushed as Wendy smiled down at him, and then had flushed still further as she continued.
“But to make you truly appreciate that moment tomorrow morning, we need you in the proper headspace. In future years, that’ll be easy since you’ll be teased and titillated in chastity for weeks beforehand, and won’t be able to muster any coherent thought beyond mushy submissiveness. But for now, we need a work-around…and I’ve got one just for us.”
Wendy had then opened her legs, revealing the green strapon cock that she had concealed from Peter. He had looked at it, eyes wide, and then groaned as his gag was removed.
“Wendy, I…” Peter had stammered as her hand found the back of his head, “I Lovmrrggghhhh… gllurrgh…gluurrckkk…glurrckk…” His stammered words, heartfelt though they had been, had been swallowed up as he was forced to swallow her strapon. Her hand had guided him up and down, up and down, forcing him to suck and keep sucking. Peter had moaned, and squirmed, but had dutifully kept his head bobbing in time with her physical guidance, and her softly cooed words.
“Hold onto that sentiment sweetie,” Wendy’s voice had smouldered, “I don’t want you to say it yet. I want it tomorrow. I want it on our special day.”
They had stayed like that for a time, Peter hadn’t been able to keep track of how long. Wendy, resplendent on the bed, her legs to either side of Peter’s kneeling form. And he, on his knees, lips wrapped around a rubber cock, fellating it for the woman who he adored. His best friend, who he loved.
Wendy had eventually pushed him off of her strapon, and then hauled him up and onto the bed, settling his stomach on a pair of pillows, his head on the bed, and his ass raised in the air. Peter had burbled a muffled question into the bed covers, and had been rewarded by having his head gently pulled back by the hair, and a rubber cock gag pressed into his mouth.
“Now…” Wendy’s voice had trembled with excitement, “Now you’re going to take my strapon…take my cock…and you are going to surrender yourself to me. Surrender to sensation, and ride your feelings, just as I ride you.”
Peter had felt her slick hands pressing lube into his backside, had felt the firm rubber slapping his butt cheeks a few times, and then had groaned into the rubber cock in his mouth as another one penetrated his rear.
And that is where we find our two lovebirds dear reader. Peter, moaning and squirming into the bed, his legs and body trembling as unfamiliar yet deeply pleasurable sensations ripple through him. Wendy, smiling fit to burst, slowly and sensually fucking her longtime friend, her new boyfriend, and her sweetly submissive slave. Pressing her strapon smoothly and slowly in and out. In and out, over and over. Rubber went in, and pulled out until only the tip remained, before sliding in to the hilt. Pressing submissiveness into Peter, and drawing out any last vestiges of resistance. Priming him for tomorrow morning. Priming him to firmly declare what he’d nearly gasped out before her strapon had taken his mouth.
Wendy would fuck him for nearly an hour with her strapon, expertly riding him to the brink several times, making his cock press desperately against its cage. Then after cleaning it, a fresh round of strapon sucking, followed by another briefer round of taking his rear, before finally preparing for bed. Peter would sleep in his straitjacket and hood combination, suckling on a cock gag, and with a butt plug buzzing in his rear. A mirrored copy of Mr Morgen, for Lisa had carefully instructed her daughter in how to approach such things.
In the morning, as Lisa was clambering atop Mr Morgen, Wendy would be tenderly awakening Peter with kisses and caresses of her own. She would ease his chastity cage off, stroking him to full erection as she whispered soft sensual promises of what was to come. Both that morning, and the many mornings as yet undawned. She would take him through the rise and fall of pleasure, pushing him forward and drawing him back. She did not yet have her mother’s skill with such things, so she did not too closely approach the brink with her boy just yet, nor did she play his body for hours as her mother was able to do with her father.
After a pair of edgings, Wendy would climb atop Peter and ride him, her hips moving in time with his own desperate thrustings. She would continue to ride him even as she unbuckled and drew forth his cock gag, her hips pressing down on his own as she kissed him. Then she drew him upwards, their pleasures twinning about one another as she pulled him up by the collar. As he moaned and squealed, she clenched around him, driving both of them over the edge of ecstasy. And as they both came, Peter would at last be allowed to freely squeal what he had tried to mumble the night before: “Wendy, I love you!”
Wendy for her part would return the favour, grinning and blushing and showering Peter with kisses. Murmuring her love for him as she continued to gently ride his spent cock, caressing his gasping face, tracing his jawline with her soft fingers. Holding the back of his head as she gently removed his hood so that she could gaze into those gorgeous eyes of his and make him say it again. And again, and again. Each time, she felt the thrill and eager blush and shiver of pleasure. Her boyfriend, her captive, her love.
She would clean him up, caressing and gently groping him. Confirming to his body and his mind the depths of her affection and care. She would carefully and slowly unbind his straitjacket, and firmly place him again in his armbinder. She would drag a final kiss from him, her lips pressed hungrily to his own, before she popped the cock gag back inside his mouth. She would click a leash to his collar, the tag her mother had clipped to him still proudly jingling in place, and then she would lead him upstairs for stockings, breakfast, and the joys of Christmas morning in the Morgen household.
It was a Christmas that she would long remember and treasure, all the more so for finally placing her and Peter where they both belonged. She, in charge of him, and he committed to her tender domination and care. In the back of her mind, plans and concerns would take shape. How to manage having a captive boyfriend, while still attending university. How she would get him back to her place. How her roommates might react. What material and items she would need to buy or borrow to ensure that he could be properly restrained and trained during the coming year.
But such thoughts would not dominate her mind today. Such thoughts were for the future. For now, Wendy would enjoy Christmas, the first Christmas but far from the last, with her dear, darling Peter. The first Christmas, as a proudly dominant and fully equal member of the Morgen household.
It would be a very merry Christmas indeed for all…