I have never been a big fan of Christmas. It is a time of stress, both financially and on the time we have available for our family and friends. Spare time that should be spent actually with the people we love, instead spend in malls trying to buy them things to show them that we love them. That people use Christmas as a time to show goodwill to man sickens me... it is something we should show all year around, not something we dust off once a year to make sparkle so we can feel better about ourselves. It makes me feel queasy. I tug at my Owner's sleeve.
"Why do we need a tree? You know I hate Christmas", I said with more of a whine in my voice than I intended, letting him know my displeasure at being dragged through the middle of this charade.
"Quiet pet", he said softly but firmly. "Don't whine".
I want to get angry at him when he dismisses me like that, but I can't. Although my head still struggles with the reality of submission, my belly quivers and a warmth ignites between my legs, my body betraying my school taught notions of equality. I sigh and curl my fingers around his hand as he leads me through the crowd. Although I do not enjoy the reason we are here, being here with him is all that I need.
He pulls me up short as we reach our destination. A small stall in the middle of the bustling marketplace, the proud purveyors of fresh pine trees. He is somewhat suprised at the difference between an Australian pine tree and those that were available in the States, commenting on the sparser foliage and lighter colour. A smug smile creeps to my lips, and I am on the verge of an "I told you so" type comment when he squeezes my hand firmly enough to cause a little yelp of pain.
"Hush pet, behave."
I bite my lip and blush, making a concerted effort to remain silent. I remind myself that we are here because it is something he wants, my whining and pouting is distracting from that. This is his first Christmas here in Australia and although I dislike the sentiment, if it is something he wants then I want to enhance that for him, not sully it with my petulance.
He spends time surveying the trees, looking through them, running his fingers over the needles on the branches, inhaling the rich fragrance. Finally he settles upon that he is happy with, and makes the payment arrangements with the vendor.
After a short struggle to get the very large tree into our rather small car we drive home. I close my eyes and listen to his chatter, the fresh scent of pine filling my nostrils. Just as I start feeling drowsy the car pulls into the driveway and he orders me inside to find the box of trimmings.
As I enter the loungeroom with the box of decorations in hand, I see him carrying the tree, a few feet taller than he is, and I am struck once again by how much strength that little package held. I had always been attracted to big guys, several inches taller than myself and large of frame, but he stood only an inch or so taller than me. I remember the first time we had met, I made the mistake of calling him petite, my ass shone for hours with the display of his strength.
As he manouvered the tree into position he glanced over at a small package placed upon the sofa.
"Get changed pet".
We had separated for only a few short minutes while we were in the city, but apparently he had made good use of that time alone! I opened the box and inside was a flimsy little outfit, sheer red fabric with white faux fir trim. It seemed I was to dress the part for trimming the tree!
(Note from pet... tis my designated bedtime, Owner told me I must try to sleep at 1am, I shall endeavour to add some more tomorrow... can you guess where its going to lead?)
"Why do we need a tree? You know I hate Christmas", I said with more of a whine in my voice than I intended, letting him know my displeasure at being dragged through the middle of this charade.
"Quiet pet", he said softly but firmly. "Don't whine".
I want to get angry at him when he dismisses me like that, but I can't. Although my head still struggles with the reality of submission, my belly quivers and a warmth ignites between my legs, my body betraying my school taught notions of equality. I sigh and curl my fingers around his hand as he leads me through the crowd. Although I do not enjoy the reason we are here, being here with him is all that I need.
He pulls me up short as we reach our destination. A small stall in the middle of the bustling marketplace, the proud purveyors of fresh pine trees. He is somewhat suprised at the difference between an Australian pine tree and those that were available in the States, commenting on the sparser foliage and lighter colour. A smug smile creeps to my lips, and I am on the verge of an "I told you so" type comment when he squeezes my hand firmly enough to cause a little yelp of pain.
"Hush pet, behave."
I bite my lip and blush, making a concerted effort to remain silent. I remind myself that we are here because it is something he wants, my whining and pouting is distracting from that. This is his first Christmas here in Australia and although I dislike the sentiment, if it is something he wants then I want to enhance that for him, not sully it with my petulance.
He spends time surveying the trees, looking through them, running his fingers over the needles on the branches, inhaling the rich fragrance. Finally he settles upon that he is happy with, and makes the payment arrangements with the vendor.
After a short struggle to get the very large tree into our rather small car we drive home. I close my eyes and listen to his chatter, the fresh scent of pine filling my nostrils. Just as I start feeling drowsy the car pulls into the driveway and he orders me inside to find the box of trimmings.
As I enter the loungeroom with the box of decorations in hand, I see him carrying the tree, a few feet taller than he is, and I am struck once again by how much strength that little package held. I had always been attracted to big guys, several inches taller than myself and large of frame, but he stood only an inch or so taller than me. I remember the first time we had met, I made the mistake of calling him petite, my ass shone for hours with the display of his strength.
As he manouvered the tree into position he glanced over at a small package placed upon the sofa.
"Get changed pet".
We had separated for only a few short minutes while we were in the city, but apparently he had made good use of that time alone! I opened the box and inside was a flimsy little outfit, sheer red fabric with white faux fir trim. It seemed I was to dress the part for trimming the tree!
(Note from pet... tis my designated bedtime, Owner told me I must try to sleep at 1am, I shall endeavour to add some more tomorrow... can you guess where its going to lead?)
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