On The Naughty List

’Twas the night before Christmas…Mara had fallen asleep wrapped in Leo’s arms, still buzzing from the way he’d tied her, teased her with her favourite clit stim, and made sure she understood exactly why she’d been placed on the naughty list. She’d gone to bed glowing, rope marks faint on her wrists - her legs trembling, her heart full. So it made sense that when she blinked awake on Christmas morning, the first thing she felt was heat blooming low in her belly.

The second feeling was one of confusion. She woke up to an empty bed. She floated through to the living room, still in a sleepy love bubble. As she cracked the door open her sleepy bubble burst as she was met with no presents under the tree. Not a single one. No stockings. No ribboned boxes. No cheesy matching pyjamas that she always insisted on. Her heart sank. Then something caught her eye. One small black box, wrapped in deep red rope and placed in the middle of the rug.

“Leo?” she called out. A low voice came from the hallway. “Check the box, baby.” Her stomach flipped. She padded over to it in nothing but her festive lingerie from the night before, legs still shaking from her punishment before bed time. She untied the rope, instantly recognising the soft, plush texture of the same rope he’d tied her with yesterday and lifted the lid.

Inside was a note, handwritten:

Nice girls get presents.
Naughty girls get punished.
Open the bedroom door.
Kneel. Hands behind you.
Let me unwrap you properly.
- L x.

Her breath stuttered. The morning sun glowed against the frost outside. Christmas music played softly from somewhere down the hall. And here she was, thighs already slick just at the idea of him. She stood, walked to the bedroom door and pushed it to.

Leo was sitting at the foot of the bed. Shirtless. His buff forearms were defined in the winter light. He looked up at her like she was the only gift he’d ever wanted.

“Well?” he asked softly. “Are you going to kneel for me?”

Her knees hit the carpet instantly. Leo walked around her slowly, the rope dragging through his fingers. “You’ve been on the naughty list all year,” he murmured. “And instead of improving your behaviour, you got even worse.”

“I didn’t mean-”. “You did,” he interrupted, voice low, with a smirk. “And that’s why you’re getting exactly what you’ve been begging for.” He gathered her wrists behind her, binding them with the same red rope as last night - tighter this time, more deliberate. Every loop and knot felt a promise.

Mara’s breath trembled. He tilted her chin up. “Do you want this?” he asked. “Yes”, she whispered. “Good girl.”

He pushed her gently onto the mattress, lifting her hips so her bum was raised and her face pressed into the pillows completely exposed. The position sent a pulse of pure lust through her.

A warm hand slid over her butt cheeks. “You’re shaking,” he said. “You’re doing that on purpose.” He laughed softly - the sound of a man thoroughly obsessed with his girlfriend. Then the first strike landed. A sharp, warm smack that made her gasp and arch.

“There she is,” he murmured. “My beautiful little troublemaker.” Then came another strike. And another. They were slow, rhythmic and controlled. It was just enough to make her thighs quiver. She moaned into the pillow.

“Use your words,” he reminded her. “Please,” she begged. “More.” He slid two fingers into the soaking heat between her legs. “Already this wet? And I’ve barely touched you.”

“Leo-” He pushed inside her with one long stroke before she could finish her declaration of love to him. Mara cried out, hips pushing back instinctively. Leo gripped her bound wrists, using the makeshift handle to pull her onto him with deep, careful thrusts. “Look at you,” he groaned. “Shaking for me. It’s Christmas morning, and the only gift you want is to be fucked senseless.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.” He thrust harder this time - deep and punishing, the kind of thrust that made her toes curl and her voice break. The headboard thudded softly against the wall. The fairy lights flickered. Her orgasm built so fast she nearly sobbed.

“Say it,” he ordered, breath hot at her shoulder. “Tell me what you are.”

“On the-” she gasped. “Say it.” “On the naughty list, oh god” she moaned. “That’s right.”

Her climax ripped through her, molten and unstoppable. She cried out his name as her body spasmed, tightening hard around him. He followed with a groan, hips stuttering as he came, collapsing over her, kissing the back of her neck between panting breaths.

When he untied her, she melted into the sheets, flushed and boneless. He stroked her cheek. “Merry Christmas, baby” he whispered. She laughed breathlessly. “Best one yet.”

By the time they’d showered, dressed, and driven to Leo’s parents’ house, Mara’s legs still felt like jelly. The marks on her wrists were faint but visible. She covered them with a cosy jumper. But she was riding her wave of euphoria so much she didn’t mind if someone noticed.

They sat squeezed around a long table: siblings, grandparents, nieces, nephews, all laughing and passing dishes. Perfectly wholesome. Except, every time Mara shifted in her seat, she felt the ache between her thighs. Every time she looked at Leo, she saw that glint in his eye, the one that said I’d take you upstairs right now if I could.

And at one point, under the table, his hand brushed her knee. She sucked in a sharp breath. He smirked. “Everything okay, love?” his mother asked warmly. “Oh i’m fine,” Mara managed. “Just a bit flushed.”

Leo leaned in, whispering so only she could hear: “You’re staying on the naughty list tonight too.” Her entire body lit up. Over a perfectly innocent plate of roast potatoes, they locked eyes, both remembering exactly how their Christmas morning had started. And exactly how it was going to end.