A Faery Tale Christmas

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A Faery Tale Christmas: A Stefan and Belinda Vignette

I awoke to the smell of freshly cut fir. Even without opening my eyes I knew I must be by the Christmas tree. Something was wrong there. I’d definitely gone to sleep in the master bedroom, the way I had pretty much every night since Stefan had made me into his girl. As I sometimes did I’d tried to pretend aloof indifference and go to sleep early. As usual I’d ended the evening flushed and sticky, curled up in Stefan’s arms. He was very determined to make sure I got used to my new life as his adored and adoring girlfriend. The constant ravishing was certainly an effective way of reminding me I was a girl now, on a level impossible to deny or ignore. I’d hardly developed my new body before he started playing it like a violin.

So how come I could smell the tree? I opened my eyes. There was dim greyness all about me with little spots of light here and there. I moved, reflexively – and then froze. Something, a cool, smooth, flat something, was wrapped around my upper arms. For a moment I almost panicked, before realising it was fairly loose and I could still move my lower arms, although something similar was wrapped around each wrist and around my hips. Otherwise I realised, I was naked. At the same moment I realised what it was that I was wrapped in.

Ribbons, that was what! Very broad silk ribbons. And the spots of light were from airholes in a cardboard box. My eyes were beginning to adjust now and I could see the outline of giant bows all over me. And I wasn’t by the Christmas tree, I was under it. I took a deep breath.

“Stefan!! Stefan, why have I been gift wrapped??!”

There was a rustling as the top of the box came off and Stefan’s boyish grin appeared. I reminded myself to be stern. It wasn’t easy. I melt into giggly fondness when he smiles like that and I think he knows it.

“You said I could have anything I wanted for Christmas. I chose you.”

“Gaaahhh!!”

It was no good. I couldn’t resist him. Besides, as a former man I knew just how good I must look to him and couldn’t help a little touch of pride in that.

“Oh well,” I said with a mixture of real and mock resignation “If you must.” As he unwrapped me I reminded myself that Christmas is a time for giving.
THE END

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