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Subject: {ASSM}  RP: Ruthie's Christmas Story (MF, d/s, anal, consensual)
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Disclaimer: This story is strictly fantasy, the product of Gary's fevered, 
fertile imagination. It was nominated for a Golden Clitorides award this 
year, a great honor. If you are under the age of 18 or live in a community 
that prohibits this kind of free expression, please stop reading here and do 
something else to occupy your time, like knitting or bowling or playing 
"Pokemon." We appreciate your comments.

Copyright 1998 RG Publications. All rights reserved.

Ruthie's Christmas Story (Mf, d/s, anal, consensual) [1/1]
By Gary

The glow of the fire barely touched her here - just enough to illuminate her 
softly as he liked. Every year at Christmas she prepared herself during the 
hours he was away until the moment of his return drew near and it was time to 
slip into the harness. The first few years she couldn't get it on alone and 
had to enlist the aid of an elf or two (dwarfish cretins... she hated 
thinking of the reviling she'd had to endure to guarantee their silence). But 
the past 50 years or so she'd been able to do everything alone, as he 
ordered. It has taken on the weight of religion, which they'd both lost eons 
ago.

These moments just before the silence of the northern chill would be broken 
by the sound of hoofs furiously beating in the night were her favorites. Her 
senses had grown so keen that she convinced herself she could hear the bells 
slapping against the sleigh and the sweat falling into the arctic seas, a 
gentle rain from a night of exertion and goodwill.

Mrs. Claus had grown to love the harness... the way it caressed her cheeks, 
the smell and taste. It was so pliant after all these years that she wore it 
as easily as she wore a smile. Thick rolled leather made from discarded reins 
and cast off toys. Nothing was wasted up here at the North Pole. The bit was 
as wide as his cock and held her mouth open and her tongue down. Worn spaces 
on the sides revealed where her molars clamped down. It fit her perfectly now.

The harness was drawn back to an eyebolt on the back wall that he had sunk 
into the oak planks many years ago for a clothesline. Thirty years ago he had 
added handcuffs to the harness. She had to make sure she slipped her wrists 
in last or she'd be caught halfway trussed, which would not please him at 
all. She clamped the bit down in her mouth, threaded the reins through the 
eyebolt, and then tied each end around an ankle. The harness was well over 
sixty feet long so there was plenty of slack in it for her to position 
herself. One year she looped bells along the reins in random positions that 
would add a sonic dimension to her preparations. That never failed to make 
her cunt start to throb. Bells. Fucking bells. It had gotten so she couldn't 
hear them without wanting to taste the leather in her mouth and feel the whip 
on her ass while the harness held her tight.

When she had her ankles tied, she dropped her red pants to her knees and 
wobbled closer to the fire. Looking down, she ripped her white blouse open so 
most of the buttons popped off, displaying her breasts encased in a red lace 
sheer bra. A stool placed 25 feet from the back wall and nailed to the floor 
had a soft needlepoint seat she'd made herself. She positioned herself in 
front of it and got on her hands and knees, letting out a soft groan as the 
harness stretched and she curled her ankles on either side of the stool. So 
now her head was pulled up and her legs kept spread. It was a constant battle 
between her harnessed mouth and powerful legs to keep in balance. The seat of 
the stool braced against her ass. Finally she reached behind her and slipped 
her hands into the cuffs, which she managed to tighten by shaking and 
pulling... not an easy chore.

There she waited for him, her head pulled proud and straight, the cock-sized 
bit firmly settled in her teeth, her long strong arms held up and behind her, 
and her thighs spread by the stool. She could smell her cunt, feel it throb, 
and feel her nipples harden. The only sound was the howl of the wind and the 
soft jingle, jingle, jingle of the bells on the harness and an occasional 
snap from the flames in the fireplace. She was afire. To the south she could 
just make out the snort of his lead reindeer and the clacking hoofs getting 
louder as the team strode the night to get home to oats and rest. The bells 
of the sleigh getting louder and the crack of the whip in the air driving 
them home filled her mind. All she could hear were bells and cracks and bells 
and cracks. The whip and he were almost home.

She heard them land. He was home again safe. The elves were prattling about 
helping with the unhitching and leading the team off to the barn. She heard 
the crunch of the snow from his large black boots as he strode towards the 
cottage. To all the world the cottage looked deserted, as if she had been 
sleeping for hours. But he knew she waited, trussed and wanton, waited for 
his hands, his mouth, his whip, his voice, and his cock. She was his fucking 
whore and this night was their special night.

As always, she was startled by the blast of arctic air when he swung the door 
open. As always, her cunt throbbed as she heard his gasp when he saw her. He 
tried to hide it but couldn't. She knew how much he loved her like this. Try 
as he might he could not remain detached and cool. Her red pants pulled down 
to her knees, her ass colored by the soft orange glow from the fire, her fine 
long neck held straight and true, her mouth open and clamped on the bit 
exactly the width of his cock. Walking around in front of her and seeing her 
cleavage in the red lace bra, barely concealed in the torn blouse, his cock 
grew harder. He reached out and stroked her cheek, smiled at her.

"Good evening, my fucking whore," he said. "I see you've been waiting for me."

Mrs. Claus moaned in answer and strained a bit in the harness as he turned to 
face the fire and removed his heavy red jacket and white-trimmed hat. "I've 
got a present for you, whore," he whispered.

He turned and pulled from his immense bag a thick-handled cat o'nine with 
tines as soft as velvet starting a half inch thick tapering down to an 
eighth. She moaned involuntarily. This was new. Often he'd use his big hands 
on her ass, spanking her till she begged him to fuck her, sometimes the old 
sleigh whip that stung with such passion. She tried to turn to watch him as 
he went behind her and sat down on the stool but the harness held her 
straight and true as it was designed to do.

She heard him unzip slowly and tried imagining that sweet hard cock dropping 
out onto her ass. She ached to wrap her mouth around it and bit down harder 
on the leather in her mouth. He started to stroke her ass with the tines of 
the whip, gently caressing her as he whispered, "My whore, my fucking cunt, 
my love. I'm going to tan you, dear. Then I'm going to stretch your asshole 
with my cock, ride you the rest of the night as the fucking whore you are."

He reached underneath and ripped her blouse the rest of the way off, held 
onto her breasts and squeezed, feeling the hard nipples grow in his palms and 
hearing her gasps of pleasure. The room reeked of cunt and cinnamon, nutmeg 
and smoke. His cock was fully erect and glistening with pre-cum.

As he did every year - part of their tradition - he bent over her and 
whispered, "I love you, Ruth. No woman has ever done for me what you have, my 
sweet Mrs. Claus."

She heard the whip unravel and heard the swoosh just before the first blow 
took her ass. He delivered fast, furious strokes till she couldn't stand it 
and strained at the harness, her pussy aching and dripping juice down her 
thighs. Then he smoothed on slow caressing strokes, letting her regain her 
composure - except her body wasn't resting. It was straining at the harness 
and swelling even more. Her skin felt too small to cover her muscled desire.

He thought to himself how he had found himself when he met Ruth those many 
years ago. She drew things out of him he didn't know were there. She indulged 
his every whim and encouraged every act. She knew how much he adored her, 
loved her, needed her, and was powerless without her.

Her ass was red now, fully tanned and ready. He shoved the whip handle under 
her breasts in her cleavage so the tines bent over just under her chin and 
she could sense the warmth, smell her flesh on it. He lifted her up so he 
could drag his hard cockhead slowly down her ass crack. He loved riding her 
like this. It took an immense act of will to draw it away, not to cum 
immediately, he was so charged by her.

He spread her ass cheeks and pushed just the head into her asshole, feeling 
it open and try to pull him in. Ruth was beyond words now, just moaning and 
writhing as the bells jingled and the smells wafted into her head. She heard 
the KY jelly squirt out onto his cock and the soft clicking of his palm 
working it all over the head and shaft, slowly, passionately, teasing her 
with the sound and smells.

Then finally, at last, his cock started pushing into her tight asshole and 
they both moaned in unison. This asshole was made for his cock. Ruth's body 
was the only one that ever turned him on. Ruth's mind was the only one that 
ever engaged him, and this passage... this incredible passage. The first few 
inches up her ass were sublime, heated, wonderful, and drawn out. God how he 
loved fucking her.

He just eased right in, inch by inch. She couldn't move much due to the 
harness. The bells were Pavlovian, making him harder as the leather strained 
the more he pushed into her, stretching her head back towards him as he drove 
her ass away with his cock. Now he was in her up to the balls and he couldn't 
contain his passion. Ruth's asshole was his now and he meant to fuck it 
thoroughly. He drove in again and again, deeper, harder, faster, the bells 
jingling, the leather slapping, his cock growing impossibly harder and more 
strained.

He remembered the other present he had brought home for her this Christmas 
Eve. As he slowed his pace in Ruth's asshole he reached into his bag and 
pulled out the nipple clamps. Smiling to himself, he thought, "I won't tell 
her. I'll just attach them," and he reached underneath, spread the jaws with 
his index and thumb and heard her howl as the first clamp bit into her hard 
left nipple. Then the right and he felt renewed vigor in her asshole. It was 
gripping him, pulling him in harder, opening wider as a wanton mouth 
swallowing his cock with each thrust.

His mind was going, he was drifting down out of the cortex, becoming 
something un-human, just a cock and body, drifting down to the limbic regions 
where it was all darkness and stimulation. Her asshole was drawing him down, 
he couldn't stop the descent as he fucked her faster and harder, moaning 
loudly into the fire.

Now he was all cock, just slamming into her asshole, oblivious to all other 
stimulation. Focused. Fucking. Focused. He felt her cumming. Ruth was 
thrashing against the reins, head moving side to side, her gasping moans and 
shrieks urging him on as he fucked her deeper, harder, faster. He felt his 
cum in his toes, his calves, his thighs, his balls, his cock and torso. His 
head would explode if he couldn't erupt in her asshole. God, he wanted Ruth. 
Ruth, only Ruth as he started to erupt wave after wave of hot thick Christmas 
cum, spiced and randy, thick and verdant all for Ruth. Only Ruth. Only 
Ruth... his fucking whore.

The End

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

For other Ruthie stories, please see "ruthie's Story" (all 12 chapters) by 
LineMstr@aol.com, "Ruthie's Afternoon" by Erotales@aol.com, the Ruthie 
quartet ("Ruthie's Sweet Night Of Passion," "Ruthie's Coffee Break," 
"Ruthie's Submission," and "Ruthie's Defilement") by Sybian1@aol.com, and the 
Gary/Ruth collaboration, "Ruthie's Glen Interlude."

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