Brandy lay curled up beside Grant, sipping on her Bailey’s spiked hot chocolate and watching the gas flames lick around a ceramic log that never seemed to burn. It was an odd Christmas for them. No cuffs and no blindfolds to keep her from peeking into the gifts scattered underneath the tree. The blonde missed that more than she first realized. The only thing salvaging a bit of that feeling was the iron lockbox mocking her attempts to find out what was inside.

It was already past midnight and finally they were alone; their guests were nestled all snug in their bed.

Brandy’s younger brother and sister-in-law were now living with them in the small three bedroom house that lay about a mile away from the salvage yard that Grant owned. The house was built in the late forties by Grants’ grandparents and it was the house in which Grant grew up. Now it was a refuge for Bret, her brother, and Lacey, his wife. Both had been laid off from their jobs at the distribution warehouse. It was a cramped adjustment for everyone, but that is what you did for family.

“I think the ‘kids’ are asleep or otherwise occupied,” Grant whispered with a smile.

Brandy cocked her head and listened. No creaks or soft thumps from upstairs. She then nodded her head in agreement and took another slurp of her cocoa.

“Want to find out what’s in package number one?” he asked.

Brandy snuggled closer to him, taking his arm and putting it around her shoulders, “What do you think, Master?”

“I take that as a no,” he grinned.

The blonde frowned at him with an icicle-melting stare.

“Okay then,” he said as he got up and pulled a large, glittery present from beneath the tree.

Brandy looked at the Rudolph-festooned present in her lap, then glanced down at the lockbox, then back to her present. It was the size of a robe box and about as heavy. As she shook it, she felt some thumps from inside.

“Care to guess?” asked Grant, stealing a sip of her her hot chocolate.

“Probably something naughty, knowing you,” she smiled as she tore off the wrapping and lifted off the top.

Inside, nested in green tissue-paper, was a sheer light brown garment, an antler headband and what looked like a pair of small hooves. A puzzled look crossed Brandy’s face.

“Now be a good little slave and go put this on. I’ll help you with the hooves after you get the rest on,” Grant said and kissed her on the forehead.

“Yes, Master,” she replied as she took her box to the small bathroom down the hall.

Brandy loved cosplay as much as anyone, especially if it involved ropes and leather, but this was a little weird, even for her. Grant never mentioned he was into Furries. But, if her man wanted her in this getup, then so be it.

The tall blonde opened the box again and pulled out the garment. It was a fawn colored sheer nylon body stocking. She quickly undressed as quietly as she could, neatly piling her clothes on the toilet seat. She took a quick glance at her statuesque figure wishing she had spent more time on herself, but she hadn’t expected to do anything like their Christmas traditions tonight due to their guests. Grant apparently thought otherwise.

After holding it up, she saw that the front of the garment was more of a cream color. It was also crotchless. She pulled on the body stocking and managed to get the zipper up in back, and the snap snapped. It was a very tight fit. Except for her hands, neck, head and the shaven spot between her legs she was completely covered but it did not hide a thing.

It felt delicious.

The antler headband was next. It wasn’t like those fakey felt antlers you see come out every Christmas. These looked nearly real and were very light weight. She put them on. She thought they would be awkward to wear but the headband kept them in place.

What remained were two little hooves with straps to buckle around her wrists. Essentially they were bondage mittens. Knowing what they were started a warm wanton glow inside her.

Brandy gathered up her box, hooves and clothes and crept out of the bathroom and back into the living room where Grant sat in his open robe and snowman faced print boxers holding another present. A big shit-eating grin lit up his face.

She spun around slowly; seductively, “You like?”

Grant nodded his head.

“Kneel,” he quietly commanded her.

Brandy sat her armload on the sofa beside her husband and knelt before him, offering her crossed wrists. Grant picked up one of her hooves and slipped it onto her hand. She had to ball her hands into fists to make them fit but once he buckled them into place, the hooves made it impossible to hold anything in her hands. She loved it.

“Now it is time to open gift number 2,” he grinned, holding the small box in his lap.

“Master Grant... ?” She asked, holding up her hoofed hands.

“You are an intelligent little slave, my love, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.”

She looked at the present a little more closely. It was a simple gold box with a red lace ribbon bow binding the top to the bottom. Gingerly, she bent forward towards the box in his lap. Tilting her head, she tried to get herself closer...

“Please don’t gouge me with those antlers,” Grant said.

Brandy frowned and inched closer. With her tongue, she managed to flick the end of the ribbon out just enough so she could hold onto it with her teeth. She pulled back with the ribbon and the bow parted. Carefully, with the tip of one of her antlers, she tipped the box lid off.

Inside was a red ball.

“I hope that isn’t for my nose. Rudolph was a guy, remember?” Brandy chided.

“I know that,” Grant said pulling out the ball, “I think you’re more of a Vixen anyway.”

The glossy red ball turned out to be a ballgag with a shiny brass hook on the front of it.

“Open wide,” Grant smiled.

Brandy did. As he pushed the ballgag gently behind her teeth, more and more of the erotic feelings of Christmas engagement filled her head and soul. Little rushes of pleasure flickered inside as he tightened her gag.

“Stand.”

The blonde did as she had been instructed; standing with her legs slightly apart so her Grant could see her shaven sex more fully. However, she kept an ear cocked, listening for any little noises upstairs. The fear of perhaps getting caught, however, seemed to stoke lascivious desires inside Brandy.

“So now let’s see what is inside your stocking?”

Grant fished out from the back of the sofa a large red stocking bulging with ‘gifts’ inside. Out of the stocking he poured coils of rope, a little remote operated egg vibe and the prized gleaming brass collar he gave to her at her collaring.

Taking Brandy’s hooves, he tied and cinched them about six inches apart in front her, making her a little more helpless and a lot more hornier.

“Turn.”

Again, Brandy did as she was told. Her elbows were ensnared as she felt more rope loop around her elbows, pulling them behind her back, efficiently pinning her hands to her slender torso. After he was finished tying her elbows off, Brandy tested her bonds more for his sake than hers. Grant loved to see her struggle. She knew behind his boxers there was a large, rampant cock ready for action.

“Turn again, my love.”

The blonde turned again to face her husband. He gently tapped his fingers on her inner thigh and she parted her long legs a little further. They had both been studying an old bondage book strangely entitled ‘The Care and Treatment of Particularly Fair Women’. Grant had found a digital copy online and had made it a part of their private lives.

Grant licked his finger and began to slowly trace it up and down between the folds of her sex. Brandy began rock her hips as a heated pleasure began to swell inside her. Little moans escaped from behind her gag.

His stroking stopped and Brandi whined in protest. However, she soon felt Grant nudge the egg vibrator fully into her and he tucked the little receiver into the leg of her stocking.

With her collar in hand, He stood up and placed the collar around her throat, closing it and locking it into place.

Brandy never felt so loved than when Grant fastened the collar around her neck. It was his pledge to her that he would always care and protect her. It was a stronger bond than her wedding ring and, for them, had a much deeper meaning.

Grant embraced her, pulling her tightly against himself. His kisses trailed down from behind her ear to her collar. She soooo wanted to be with him right now in the privacy of their bedroom. As he pulled away, she knew that was not to be. Not right now, anyway.

Once again he reached in back of the couch and brought up her pair of brown calf-high leather boots with the stiletto heels. Brandi was a tall woman and any type of heels made her that much taller, even when beside Grant.

Without a word, her husband helped Brandi into her boots. It was like a well-rehearsed ballet. When they were both zipped up, Grant paused with a puzzled look on his face then hesitantly tapped her outer thigh.

“Uh-huh,” she laughed behind her gag. She knew what he wanted her to do but had given her the wrong command.

“No?” he questioned.

She smiled and shook her head in agreement.

Brandy saw a flash of enlightenment come over his face and then he confidently tapped her knee. She laughed again and closed her legs. Grant picked up the last length of rope and tied it around her knees and cinched them together.