"What?" I muttered, somewhat surprised."On your knees," she repeated.She then took the end of the riding crop and started tracing it down the front of...my priest rope until it ended at my crotch. I could feel it through the cloth of my jeans I had under the robe. I instinctively tried to wriggle out of the cuffs, soon realizing that was indeed an exercise in futility."What don't you understand slave boy?" With that, she again pushed the end of the riding crop down to my crotch against my cock,. Really, I had no idea what she needed help with, and I would have helped her even without the sexual tension that now existed between us, but as I walked up to her door I did hope there might be more to this than just wrapping gifts.She let me in wearing her robe and heels, an odd combination in my mind at the time, and as I took off my coat and boots(winter in Canada needs boots, not sexy but warm) she explained that she needed something special for her husband for under the tree. Since her. More

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