Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  “Oh, I’ll be sure to eat lunch, Daddy. Don’t worry,” she cooed, “But I wanted to let you know that I just ordered your Christmas present and it’s going to blow your mind.” He loved it when her voice took on a playful edge and his cock immediately stiffened in his boxers.

  “Hm, well, if memory serves, you blew my mind and something else last night, didn’t you?” The two giggled over the cheesy, transparent double entendre before Kurt let her in on his little secret.

  “So, it sounds like both of us have been working on our Christmas shopping today, princess. It just so happens that I’ve also got some big plans for my special girl.”

  “Big plans?” The merriment squeaked out of her voice and nervousness replaced it. “But Daddy, I thought you said you weren’t getting a bonus this year.”

  “And I’m not, princess, but that doesn’t mean you’re not getting a gift. And, just for the record, that’s the end of this conversation, young lady. Princesses aren’t supposed to worry about money matters, are they?”

  “No, Daddy,” she whispered, complacent and slightly more relaxed.

  “That’s my girl. Now, go eat your lunch and Daddy’ll get to work on takin’ care of the details for your gift.” He smiled through the phone, and as he hung up, he realized that he was happier than he’d been in months. Hanging up, he did a little research and made another phone call, desperate to start putting his plan in motion.

  “Hey there, is this the Cash n’ Pawn off 79? I’ve got something I’d like to sell and’d like to get a quote before I go all the way over there.”

  A few minutes later, he had a tentative quote—$750—and a promise that the pawnshop would be open on Christmas Eve to make the switch at the last possible moment.

  He didn’t know if it was the incredible love-making from the night before, the Christmas spirit, the wonderful gift idea he had for his princess, or the brutal-ass cold, but as he zigzagged over to his friend Mark’s shop, he found himself in an all-out sprint to get there.

  Mark had been a buddy of Kurt’s in high school. He had inherited his family’s leather goods shop and, thankfully, a good dose of his father’s loving, artistic craftsmanship. Although his parents had retired years before and moved down to Florida, Mark stayed in Trentsville, taking advantage of the rent-free accommodation and a thriving online business.

  But while Mark’s father had just barely eked out a living by creating custom horse saddles and other equestrian items for folks from around the county, Mark quickly realized that with his natural talent and the tools at his disposal, there was more money to be made by catering to the special needs of anonymous online kinksters from around the whole world.

  He set up a website, posted pictures of some of his bespoke items—crops, whips, floggers, and the like—and the orders poured in faster than he could make them. But there were only a few people in Trentsville who knew about Mark’s online presence and true business model. Kurt was one of them.

  He walked into the cluttered shop, letting the warm air thaw him out as he dipped, dodged, and wove his way through the shipping boxes, tabletop tools, and assorted junk that littered the small space.

  “Hey! You here?” he called out into the dim leather-scented back room. “Mark?”

  Although he didn’t see his friend, his eyes fell on exactly what he was looking for. Resting on a table on their own, the dark brown leather cuffs were about three inches wide and featured reinforced buckles attached to thick chains. And as he ran his fingers over the supple hide and the scent of the rich leather overwhelmed his senses, his cock throbbed at the thought of how the cuffs would look and feel when he secured them around Annie’s wrists and ankles before tying them to the bedframe. He’d come to the right place.

  “Kurt? That you, buddy?” Mark’s heavy footsteps plodded down the stairs from the apartment above the shop. “I was just grabbin’ some lunch and didn’t hear you come in. How ya been, man?”

  As the two engaged in small talk and got caught up on their lives—they hadn’t seen each other since the town’s Fourth of July barbeque—Kurt marveled at how his friend hadn’t changed since high school. Same burly physique that made him the all-star center of the football team, same mop of thick, rust-colored hair with the scraggly beard to match, same easy-going attitude. And even though he was making more money than anybody in Trentsville, he still wore the same faded, shredded jeans he’d been sporting for over a decade. He was a good man, and as down to earth as they came.

  “So, uh, what brings you by, man?” The requisite chitchat concluded, Mark got down to business.

  “Yeah, so, remember that special piece I had you make for Annie’s and my third anniversary?”

  “Aw, man, how could I forget?” He smiled and ran his fingers through his copper hair. “That was one of the best floggers I ever made! To this day, the picture of that thing on my site brings me more business than all my other stuff combined. You thinkin’ about upgradin’ or somethin’?”

  Kurt loved how Mark never pried, never wanted to know the details about Kurt and Annie’s relationship, never probed too deeply about his clients’ kinks. The leather shop might as well have been a confessional, given how many naughty secrets Mark had harbored over the years.

  “Naw, not upgrading, at least not yet. But I’ve got something in mind and I knew you’d be the guy to come to. Tell me about those cuffs you’ve got over there.”

  “Ah, you have a good eye, buddy. Those are some of the nicest ones I’ve ever made. They’re a prototype I put together with some ultra-high-quality Italian leather and the best stainless fittings and clasps money can buy. Plus,” he grabbed the wrist cuffs off their perch, and brought them over to Kurt, “Rub your hand along the inside there. That’s the softest suede on the market right now, and I used a special process to press the leather and suede together to create a composite out of the materials.”

  The restraints were even nicer than Kurt had initially thought. They were perfect for his Annie. Her days of rope burnt wrists and ankles were officially over. Come Christmas Day, he was going to get her cuffed up, spread-eagled, and ready for a day spent at his mercy. But there were still a few challenges in the way.

  “So, they’re a prototype, yeah? They for sale?”

  “Everything’s for sale in here, man, you know that. But I’m gonna warn you. These aren’t cheap. I was gonna list ‘em for a grand. I’ve got plenty of folks who’d pay double that, but a grand’s a fair price.”

  Shit. Now that Kurt had seen the cuffs, he knew nothing else would do. He had to have them, had to hold his princess captive with their strength and softness.

  “I hear you, and they really are incredible. And look, I don’t wanna screw you over or anything, but...” He sucked air through his teeth, the universal unspoken sign for can we work something out here?

  “Sounds like you’re lookin’ for the friend price, huh?” Mark smirked and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Of course, man. For an old friend and a repeat customer, I’ll give ‘em to you for eight-hundred dollars, but you gotta let me take promo pics of ‘em first so I can post ‘em on the site, yeah?”

  With a vision of Annie writhing in the cuffs, tethered to the bed, and taking every inch of him in her gorgeous pussy, Kurt knew he wouldn’t be leaving Mark’s shop without making the purchase. And fifty dollars wasn’t going to stand in his way.

  “Oh, man, thanks! That’s more than generous of you. Uh, I can get you seven-hundred and fifty dollars by Christmas Eve. If I threw in a free oil change and brake inspection, could we call it square?”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.” The two shook hands and Mark added, “Christmas Eve’ll give me plenty of time to take the shots I need. I’ll have ‘em all wrapped up and ready to go whenever you wanna come over, cool?”

  “That’s perfect. And thanks a lot, man! Merry Christmas!”

  “And Merry Christmas to you and Annie too. I’m glad these’ll be goin’ to a good home.” With a final wink, Mar
k slipped into the back of the shop, leaving Kurt grinning from ear to ear.

  CHAPTER SIX

  STILL IN HER GREASE-stained diner uniform, Annie grabbed the heaping tinfoil-wrapped plate and flew down the stairs the moment she heard the mailwoman’s footsteps on the front stoop. Before Maureen made it to the house next door, Annie threw open the door and gave her the homemade cookies she’d baked for her.

  “Thanks for always makin’ sure our mail gets here, Mo! And Merry Christmas!”

  It was the day before Christmas and Annie saw the small bubble wrapped envelope tucked between the utility bills and the local grocery coupons. His present had arrived on time.

  “Aw, thanks, Annie! And Merry Christmas to you too!” she bellowed, resting the cookies on the passenger seat of her mail truck. “Now don’t go tellin’ my kids you made me cookies, ‘cause I don’t plan on sharin’ even one of these!” With her pedal to the metal and a final, joyous whoop, Maureen plowed along to the next stop on her route, clearly looking forward to finishing up and getting home to her family.

  Annie grabbed the mail out of the box attached to the peeling façade of their home, feeling her nipples pebble in her bra from the icy cold outside, and ran back up the stairs, eager to rip open the package she’d been waiting for all week. With a satisfying tear, the puffy envelope popped open and a small cardboard box fell to the floor. Her hands shook as she picked it up and removed the lid to reveal the tiny, precious cargo. As her eyes teared up, she realized just how perfect her choice had been. Kurt was going to love it.

  The tiny gold ball glimmered against the little cotton pillow, and when she tilted the box ever so slightly, she caught a glimpse of the true showstopper of the piece—a half carat, circular cut diamond embedded in the internally threaded gold ball bearing. Once he exchanged it out for one of the plain gold beads on either end of his Prince Albert, she knew it would be the perfect gift and symbol of their bond.

  The two of them had never owned a diamond before, not even in their wedding rings, but Annie wanted Kurt to have something on him at all times that reminded him of the love, respect, and admiration she had for him. The little diamond rolling around in her hand would do just that. Hard times notwithstanding, the bond between them had never been stronger and this tiny gift would communicate so much more than words ever could.

  Even with overcast skies, the weak winter light shining through the kitchen window made the diamond twinkle and come alive. As she put the lid back on the little box, protecting her newest treasure, her pussy clenched as thoughts of Kurt taking her from behind, burying his diamond-studded jewelry in her tight pussy, took ahold of her imagination. While the physical sensations would be all-consuming and intense, it was the emotional connection and closeness with her daddy that had her panties getting damper with each passing second.

  Unbuttoning her uniform, Annie left the box on the counter and wandered into their bedroom. A momentary pang wrenched her gut as she contemplated the spacious room. Sitting on the box spring, their naked mattress looked as forlorn as an inanimate object could. Once the diner had closed after breakfast—Sarah wanted to give the team a little extra time off on Christmas Eve—Sarah’s husband met them at Sugar’s and the three of them went to Annie’s, dismantled the bed, and then the older couple carted it away. Despite the hefty check from one of her dearest friends, the profuse thank-yous, and the holiday cheer, Annie’s heart ached with a niggling sense of guilt at having sold away her legacy.

  The bed was your past, Annie. Kurt is your present and your future. You did the right thing.

  Her subconscious talked her down and calmed the slight rumbling in her belly. She was certain she’d gotten the right gift for the only man she’d ever love and ever need, but it was going to take a little while to get used to the sight of their new, airier bedroom. With a few hours until Kurt got home—he’d called to let her know about a last minute job at Bucky’s—Annie set to work to prepare for his arrival.

  After making the bed and taking a leisurely shower, she slipped into a baby pink lacy bra and panty set he’d bought for her years ago. It was his favorite and she always felt her sexiest when wearing it for him. She ran a single finger down the line of her sex, relishing the feel of the cotton and lace gusset against her labia. But before she got carried away with her erotic meanderings, she gave her clit a last circling flick and occupied her hands with other, daddy-approved activities.

  Shrugging a satin robe over her shoulders and cinching it around her soft waist, she set up shop in the kitchen and whipped up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies—Kurt’s favorite—so they’d be done but still a little warm by the time he came home. With the box tucked safely away in the loose pocket of her robe, all Annie had to do was wait for him to come home. Just wait and imagine his reaction when she gave him his gift.

  KURT FLEW DOWN THE interstate on his way back to Trentsville. He’d had to tell Annie a little white lie. Bucky had closed the shop around lunchtime, but Kurt needed the time to take care of the final details for his gift. Under the pretext of handling some last-minute repairs for a friend’s car, he got to work. The trip to the pawnshop had been quick and efficient, and he’d gotten the $750 he was quoted over the phone. With one final visit to Mark’s shop, he’d be ready to get home to his princess.

  As a few fluffy snowflakes skittered across his windshield, he distracted himself with lascivious thoughts about tying up his Annie, watching her twist against the soft restraints, and bringing her to the edge over and over again before making her scream out her release. Unfortunately, his rampant fantasizing about the gift he was about to give her also meant he spent the remainder of the drive home with his cock pressing uncomfortably against the jagged fly of his coveralls.

  After he grabbed the wrist and ankle cuffs from Mark’s shop—the package was all wrapped up in festive paper for him—and shelling over the cash he’d just received, he gave Mark a quick hug and a merry Christmas before hopping back in his pickup and bee-lining it home. The flakes were falling at a steady pace now, downy and silently hypnotic. The deep freeze over the preceding weeks ensured the heavy flakes stuck to all surfaces and blanketed Trentsville in wintery whiteness.

  Evening was almost upon him when he pulled up to the house, and when he caught a glimpse of Annie’s silhouette in the twinkle-lit window, he threw the car in park, grabbed her gift off the passenger seat, and flew up the stairs as fast as his work boots would carry him. He didn’t even mind it when he ripped the dilapidated railing off the wall and it clattered into the stairwell.

  His haste paid dividends as the sight that awaited him was far more erotic than anything he’d conjured up during his ride back to town. His Annie was kneeling in the kitchen, clad only in the lingerie he’d bought for her a few Valentine’s Days back, and in the most gorgeous submissive pose he’d ever seen. Knees spread, palms up, back straight, head down, and clearly comfortable as the heat from the oven enveloped her in warmth.

  With her curls pulled away from her face, he saw the slight flush of arousal across her cheeks, but she kept her eyes glued to the floor. Even though their marriage and interactions were based on the principles of domestic discipline, rarely did Kurt ask his princess to kneel before him. He much preferred her to be over his knee or pinned beneath him on the bed.

  But there was something about the scene—fluffy snow falling just outside the window, the sugary warm smell of freshly baked oatmeal raisin cookies, and the stunning silence after his rampage up the stairs—that triggered an overwhelming sense of calm in him.

  “You’re beautiful like this, princess. Absolutely beautiful,” he murmured as he crossed the kitchen to stand beside her.

  “Look up at your Daddy. He wants to see those beautiful brown eyes of yours.” She obeyed and infused him with a burst of joy as she beamed a smile up at him.

  “Merry Christmas, princess. I got something for you.”

  “But it’s not Christmas yet, Daddy,” she reminded him, accepting the hand he
offered her and rising to her feet.

  “Well, you might be right, but Daddy doesn’t wanna wait until tomorrow, baby. Let’s open your present now, hm?”

  “Okay! But can we open yours first?”

  Her excitement was contagious and, deciding to give her what she wanted, he nodded and snagged a warm cookie from the cooling racks on the counter.

  “Ooh! Thanks, Daddy! I know you’re going to love what I got you. I mean reeeeallly love it.” She dragged out the word as she led him over to his chair at the kitchen table and sat in his lap.

  He laid her present on the table and focused his eyes on the miniature box in her palm.

  “I was trying to think of something special that only you and I would share, but that would let you know I’m thinking about you and that I’m with you all day, every day, you know?”

  “I do, baby, and I can’t wait to see what you got me.” His interest was piqued and he lifted the box from her hand, shaking it next to his ear and listening to the muted rattle.

  What could possibly come in such a small box? It barely weighs anything. “You’re sure you want me to open this now, yeah?”

  “Yes, Daddy!” she squealed, bouncing around on his lap in adorable unbridled giddiness.

  Lifting the lid off the box, he was momentarily dazzled by the sparkle within, but in just a few seconds, he realized what her gift was and his heart sank in a swell of heart-wrenching joy blended with sadness.

  “I, uh, I love it, princess. H-how did you find the money to buy this for me, baby?” he managed to choke out as a tear teased the corner of eye.

  It was the most beautiful gift she could’ve bought him, something they’d admired at the piercing shop on more than one occasion. But he knew there was no way they’d ever be able to afford it. Or so he’d thought.

  “Um, well, I, um, I sold our bed to Sarah.”