Note: This is a Winter Holidays Story Contest 2022 story and my first ever contest story. I hope you enjoy it.

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I let out a relaxed breath after parking the car in his spot. I hesitate before plugging the car. I drive an electric car and I know he will get a notification when charging starts. He likes to stalk me. Correction, I like it when he stalks me. But, do I want to announce that I have arrived? What was the plan for the afternoon? Are we going out first, maybe to something cultural? Maybe sporty? Or is he already waiting naked for me in bed? Nice with a welcome aperitif… nice with dessert too.

As I walk the few steps from the car to his place, I am trying to put away my work day and all other things going on in my head, delaying all analysis, all decisions. Just looking forward to letting it all be what it has to be, amazed by this freedom of unconditional trust. I pass the usual sporadic neighbors wondering how much they imagine. How much can they guess what is going on? How much do they… normally hear? I am not that loud a woman, am I? The old lady was sitting there, smoking as usual. I wonder what she thinks about the prohibition of smoking inside the buildings when it is just below zero degrees on days like these. I realize my nipples are hard from the cold. But are they visibly hard?

I recall now. We discussed watching some live stream today! As I know his stalking behavior might soon develop into voyeurism, I proposed this new website. We saw the replay of a gorgeous amateur lesbian couple about one month ago. It was shibari rope artwork, not porn. This morning he sent me a link to a live event happening this afternoon. He said it would be his first advent present. I am not sure what I think about that. I say let’s explore his kink.

I drop back to earth as I realize there is a note on the door. Still walking towards it, I look at the windows and see the curtains closed. Look back to the door and I realize the large handwriting from the note can be read by standing a few steps away. A set of instructions. Left for me. It couldn’t be posted there too many minutes ago, risking others to read it? I take it hastily, and follow the first instruction. Get in.

Ten minutes later I get out of the shower. I look at my image in the mirror. My skin, firm, wet. Light reflecting on wet skin. Goosebumps adding irresistible texture. As instructed, I look at the two pieces of garment hanging on the bathroom hangers and prepare myself to make a choice. I first take the white fur trimmed red jacket from the bathroom hanger and put it on. Childish, I think. I try to picture myself as a Christmas present. It feels soft when it slides on me. Oh my god, it does not look childish at all when I see my image on the bathroom mirror. It is a long fit. I leave it slightly open, part of my breast peeking out through the white fur. A bit playful, a bit casual. What is his plan? I imagine him taking a front picture of me while I look at the mirror. Is he fantasizing about keeping pictures or sharing them? I immediately feel some conflicting feelings to that idea, although I remember agreeing that some sharing could be allowed, no faces though. Then I move to look at the reflection of my ass popping out at the end of the jacket. It was a nice view, but the jacket still conjured images of people dressed like Santa and families gathered around a Christmas tree. It is not the mood I am going for and it works as a cold shower. I immediately remove the jacket, and look at the second piece of garment hanging there.

I grab the single-breasted trench coat of black leather and put it on. The black color was a perfect contrast to my milky skin. How beautiful I look in it! I should definitely use something like this… when? When do I want people to confuse me for someone from an escort business? I leave it also slightly open, my breasts peeking out again. My finger slips from along my body, around my breast and softly stops on the peeking nipple. I shiver. Pleasure invades me and I feel an urge for him to suck at it. Where is he?

Before moving to instruction four, go to the living room, I re-read the rest of the list. I imagine him writing the instructions. I wonder what he has planned for me, and why I am not allowed to say a word unless it is reading text aloud. He loves me reading stories from Storyva to him, using my best freaky conservative librarian British accent, so maybe that is on the agenda today? It suits as a better advent present than watching some streaming if you ask me. But it doesn’t say. I remember him naively blushing every time I said the word “cock”. He is the freudian personification of the whore-madonna paradigm, found together in one man. I imagine what he might have planned after the instructions were written. I visualize his hands between the coat and my skin, arms embracing me. I picture him hidden somewhere, because he should be at home, shouldn’t he? Alone? I enjoy realizing how turned on I already am.

The lights are dimmed, silhouettes dance in the living room at the rhythm of the fireplace. Some training gear next to it, I hope he is not thinking about working out today. I discover the solid wood dining table meticulously prepared; four rope pieces are carefully placed waiting for me. I climb and sit on the table. This is a sturdy table. I love it. I feel my cunt wetting the wood already. Seated as I am, I cross both legs in front of me and I fix both feet to the ropes. Each rope is fixed to a separate table leg. I turn around and lay down, I feel the hardness and coldness of the table on my breasts and my erect nipples. The one side of the table is doing its work at spreading my legs.

There are two ropes left on the other side of the table: one short and one long. The next immediate step is straightforward. I put my left hand through the loop prepared on the long rope and tighten it. I can still move the hand freely as there is at least two meters of rope there. I put my right hand towards the waiting rope loop on the other end of the table and I tighten the prusik knot using my long-rope-hand. I have three constrained points now with short ropes, I check them. I have some small free movement, which is good. They are simple and good knots. I realize these are not the most comfortable knots he has used on me, but they were chosen to be easy to tight for the less experienced as this is starting to be my first self-bondage experience. I look back to my hand with the long rope and try to decide if the last step is clever or not. The long rope is passed through a prusik knot on a short rope to the leg. This knot is especially arranged for a given purpose, that I know. He had explained it to me before, the time he used it on himself.

I enjoy my last moment of free movement for my left hand. There will be no turning back soon. With this long-roped-hand I grab the loose end and pull compliantly towards me. I shorten the rope by half a meter. I remind myself that he is here somewhere. I grab further up now and pull some more. I can see how the loose rope gets tighter and I begin loosing freedom with each pull. I stop and hesitate. He is just waiting, I repeat to myself. No one should attempt this unless they are completely sure they can get out with help from somebody. I check my other three constrained points and realize that I will not get free from those. I look back to the half meter left on this hand and remember the instructions. I trust him. I feel I probably shouldn’t, but I obediently pull the last half meter, completely constraining my last extremity. As I feel the rope pulling my wrist upwards by my tightening effort I embarrassingly feel the dripping between my legs. Oh god, how sick I am. I am his whore and he loves me for who I am. Whose advent present was this?

I let my head relax on the table, my side cheek on the wooden surface. I am feeling all wet between my legs, the black leather over there is wet as well.

I wait. There is no way he will make me wait long here. This is dangerous, and he knows it. All my uncertainty starts fading away as time passes. He knows he must make his appearance soon. He knows I am an impatient woman!

As I wait, I try to nourish my patience, my thoughts drift. Try to look through the curtains. It is cold outside. I suddenly remember that the note was on the outside of the door, not on the inside. A new fear creeps in. I am not afraid of someone reading it anymore, but what if it was left by somebody else instead? But it was his handwriting, right? How is his handwriting by the way? What if something happened to him? What if the ropes were not for me but for him, and …. he… thoughts spinning fast. What if somebody else placed the note outside, knowing that the table was with the ropes?

I get distracted by a noise. I realize that my hands are tighter than my feet, especially the last hand. I heard the noise again underneath the table and inch myself forward so I can look what is laying down there on the floor. I see a screen, his IPad. I try to identify what is on the screen. It is some kind of waiting lobby. My eyes need to adjust so I begin identifying text on the screen…

Suddenly some movement on the room door behind me, some steps. I feel how the coat is grabbed and bent over my head. Everything gets darker as most of the coat hangs around my head, I can feel my back exposed up to the armpit region and the coat coming down around my head. The coat prevents me from looking around and behind but I can still see the screen lying on the floor while I am peeking over the table edge.

I watch the screen, and an image is suddenly evident to me. I recognize a dark room, my eyes being catched by the brightest part, a gorgeous naked ass colored by the light of a fireplace. I recognize the table and… oh my…! I recognize my naked body, lying on the table. That is my ass! I move abruptly and see myself moving in the video a second later. I panic. It is a live stream. I recognize the web site. Fuck, that site was my fucking idea! I panic a bit more, I feel confused. I see only myself there, from behind, low angle shooting. Not really professional though.

The beep noise again. I realize there are some viewers but I can not fully read the number of how many. Perverts! This is against my consent! I try to move away but the ropes I myself tightened shut me down in place. How many perverts are there? Maybe, it is the number thirteen that shows up there? Luckily, not that many viewers. They are watching me. They might be with their hands in their trousers while they are watching me. Well not me, but my gorgeous ass. Not my face, but my body, my shapes. Yes, me! And these guys are… daydreaming with my body? Are they touching themselves and enjoying an erection maybe by looking at the light reflection on my gorgeous skin? I feel an unexpected warmth invading me as I realize they might be getting aroused by me somewhere out there in the world. The image of my naked butt giving them warmth.

I remember there were about 80 viewers in the amateur session we watched! But that couple in the screen, they knew, they were filming themselves, they might even be acting! I have never agreed… Wait… when I think about it, I should have been more careful with my wording, I gave him consent for sharing images of me as far as he does not reveal who…

SPANK! I hear the noise first and feel my left butt cheek burn, a second later I see his naked body on the screen approaching from the side and hitting me hard with his open hand. It is him after all! I melt when I recognize his body. He satt this up. Oh my god, I think how he might get aroused at the idea of people jerking off at images of my body. He is so in control. “Please, do whatever you want with me” I think to myself.

He hits again, mostly to even out. I bite my lip, all four ropes tighten and I close my eyes, despite it was all already mostly dark inside this claustrophobic coat. Both sides are burning now. I open my eyes as pain turns into heat, warmth again. The screen on the floor keeps blinking and making noises that I can not follow.

On he screen, I see him raising his hand again and I tense my body, rise my ass and prepare to receive it as I close my eyes again. All four ropes are pulling tight. But nothing happens…

As I relax I feel dripping from my cunt again and realize I have started trying to rub myself towards the table, unconsciously. But the angle is not the best and I have no pillow there.

He oils his hands and forearms and starts giving me a massage. First further deep into my shoulder as he gets under the jacker, then the rest of my upper body. He works thoroughly using both hands, and forearms. I can feel all his weight firmly pressing over large surfaces as the whole skin between his elbow and his fingertips rubs my back. The slow-burn frustrates me at first. I want more… now… However, I recognize this is a lovely change from the initial aggressive behavior. I feel again literally melting. Metaphorically, at least. I believe I can as well have some solids inside me that are melting down by the heat of his arms and exits as melted wax through my cunt. Where is all this liquid coming from? I open my eyes and watch the screen. I see his body working, the muscles flexing, surfaces rubbing. The coat and table a perfect dark contrast to our skins reflecting the fireplace light. He continues to the lower part of my back. I have such an amazing body, the public will agree! A headless body though… He massages my buttocks firmly, pressing hardly with the thumb. My front is barely rubbing towards the table. I can see several of his body muscles in tension.

“Oh god, unbelievable”, I exclaim.

I get shushed by him immediately as I remember the writing instruction about not talking, unless it is for reading out loud or a traffic light color. “Green”, I say.

He briefly stops the massages, kisses gently the center of my upper back, then continues. I can feel his forearm pressing with all his weight on the upper part of my back. The massage glides downwards and I feel as if all my bones are being reset back to place after the forearm passess. The movement ends wrinkling my skin towards the hill produced by my ass.

I remember that we are being watched. I feel wonderful but starts questioning how erotic does it is for our audience. How erotic was actually that amateur pair we saw last time?

I internally shake my head and try to be present in the moment, but I am curious on how many are watching me now. Watching us, I mean. I feel his hands now moving downwards towards my legs. I open my eyes and look at the screen. I can read some chat going on with words such as SMOOTH and AMOR and… also commenting on how I wet the table and that I am surely a WHORE THAT LOVES SPANKY SO SHOULD GET SOME MORE. However he continuous massaging me, oblivious of what the audience write. Either he decided to not read it or to ignore it. Or he can not read it. Or…

And then I find out…

“I am a whore that loves spanky so I should get some more”, I read aloud and brace myself, the four ropes tightening at once.

What happens immediately afterwards happens nearly simultaneously: I hear my voice, I feel the slap, my butt burns in pain melting to pleasure, I see him raising his hand on the screen and I get even more wet, more horny.

I enjoy the mind game he created for me. I smile. I want his cock now, and I realize am not allowed to say it if I am to play following the rules.

The screen makes some more noises. It is the sound of an award earned.

There are more than nineteen different willing members writing now.

«Knead that hot ass», I read. He does. Using both hands with focus on one buttock first. Pressing with all his weight. It gets hot as he is melting more of the hard stuff inside me directly with his fingers. This is lovely. I want more. With every press he does, my pussy tries to rubs with the table. But it is not enough, I try to turn, I try to jump, I shake, ropes tighten. So frustrating!

I try to relax and calm down. He switches to the other buttock. I breath again… Delightful.

Happy of having controlled my anxiety, I look at the screen. I love to see him work. There is more text that I haven’t read. I see that comments can be voted or promoted. About spanking me more. I decide I am done with that. He is actually letting me top from bottom by letting ME read aloud. And I finally discover a better suited order to read. One I was looking for.

«Finger her. Finger me!». The award sounds again.

He starts combining the massage with sliding one finger further down. And starts rubbing my clit. I squish his hand against the table. I pull on the hand ropes arching my back. I realize I am making noises because I hear them from the screen.

«Squeeze the nipples!» read as soon as it appears. He does. I want to come now!

I can not hold it more, but I manage to wait until at least seventeen of the twenty three lovely fans had voted for the one I read next. “Let that nymphomaniac come at last”. He gives good support with his hand on my clit while continuously working my nipples the way I love. I see my ass on the screen moving as in a porno movie. My back arching, head on the table, spit running from my open mouth, and ropes tightening on every move. I breathe as a bear moans, and on my fourth wiggle I pass the point of no return into full ecstasy.

I slowly calm down and appreciate the award sound again. The hand continues between my legs and gently caresses my clitoris. To my surprise there are not less viewers, but more. We are up to thirty-seven now. And I am not surprised to understand that I want more.

I get playful and decide to put a challenge on him. I choose the one impossible for him to accomplish. “Lick my cunt”, I hear myself ordering.

He stops. I see him crouching under the table. I realize he is looking for the lock used to hold both halves of the table in place. This table can be extended, adding a central part. So he extends it after opening the lock, and then my pelvis get exposed. My hands and feet pull away from each other, and I lose sight of the screen. His mouth, coming from below, starts eating me. He knows how to do this. And I hate it. He licks the clit. He sucks it, which is not the same, as he uses the entire mouth all around while sucking in a sliding movement of his tongue. Then he pauses for some infernal 5 seconds. I become desperate despite having come just moments ago. Thankfully, he starts licking and sucking again. I need his cock, please… the sucking gets really intense and he fucking stops again for an eternity of one deep breath.

He starts again. I try to move against his face. And starts with some moaning again. And then he stops again. This time I feel the noise of the dripping of my wet pussy against the floor. I believe he is moving away. I feel his hand lifting me from my abdomen and closing the table again together. I get an overview on what is on the screen again!

“Fuck her face”

I can see him moving around to where the coat is, just next to my head. He moves it up to my neck, grabs my hair and raises my head, leaving my mouth a breath away from his cock. I open my mouth and let it slowly glide in. I love his cock. It is hard, tastes wonderful and feels really warm. I manage most of it inside, controlling my gag reflex. I managed it before and it works perfectly today. He pulls the grip on my hair harder and enters me two more times before he pulls the cock out and leaves my head hanging. I will not bore anyone with telling how wet I am anymore, let’s just say that the seventy one erotic fans, both men and women are jerking off at how much pleasure they read out of my involuntary movements, table flooding and gagging sounds. I know this because I read their comments and awards left to me on the screen.