Stuffed Stocking

It all began when I was browsing some catalogs and came across a giant red and white Christmas stocking. Checking out the dimensions it was clear that it was more than big enough for me to fit inside. I grabbed my computer and credit card and ordered one for expedited shipping. Thus my plan for me to be my boyfriend Steve’s personal stocking stuffer was hatched.

A couple of days later the stocking arrived and I quickly took it to my room, shutting and locking the door. Outside, the stocking was exquisitely soft but the inside was a rougher material. There were two thin straps for hanging it on a wall and although they were probably more than adequate to hang the stocking and an assortment of various gifts, they clearly would not withstand suspending a 5 foot 5 inch, 126 pound woman. Stripping down to my bra and panties I decided to try it on for size. Stepping into its ‘foot’, I pulled the sides up around me as far as it would go. Unfortunately, that left its top just below my breasts. I figured that I would be more fully ‘stuffed’ into the stocking if I tried kneeling instead of standing on my feet, so I dropped the sides and then got on my knees, bringing my feet up to my butt. It was hard to stay balanced, however, so I moved the whole apparatus over by a wall and this time leaned forward with my forehead against the wall. This time I was able to pull the stocking all the way up to my neck. “Perfect,” I thought. A frog-tie would definitely be part of my bondage stocking stuffer outfit.

What wasn’t perfect was the inability to hang the stocking and the scratchy lining. Sure, even if the stocking with me inside were lying on the floor, it would be an impressive visual for Steve, but I just had to do this right, which meant a hanging stocking filled with a bound Sinthia. I decided that the rough interior could be fixed by buying another stocking, turned inside out to be used as a lining. I did a little research and figured that I could make another sock out of Kevlar fabric which would reside between the other two layers and serve as the structure and strength for suspension. Once again, with credit card in hand, I purchased a few yards of Kevlar fabric, some Kevlar thread and special scissors needed to cut the material. I spent the next weekend holed up in my room, away from my roommates, doing the seamstress bit, fabricating my new, improved giant Christmas stocking. I incorporated two rings in the back for suspending it and one in front for securing me to it.

With my new, improved stocking and bondage pose selected, all that remained was to decide where to spring Steve’s surprise and how to get into the suspended stocking. Steve was away on a business trip, returning on Christmas Eve. Since I had a key to his house, and me living in an apartment with two other college roommates, it was obvious when and where to do this. He even had a relatively unadorned wall in the great room where he had his Christmas tree – what more could I ask for? But how to get myself into the hanging stocking?

A ladder would work, but once inside the sock I’d not be able to move it away so as not to spoil the view. The idea came to me to make two tall ‘presents’ flanking the stocking which would serve as my launch point and as a shelf to hold by various pieces of bondage equipment. This would require some heavy duty construction on my part, but fortunately I’m handy with tools and Steven has a well-equipped shop in his basement. I got a couple of wardrobe boxes, some 2 by 4s, industrial strength pulls and a slew of screws from the local home improvement store and a bunch of wrapping paper and wide ribbon from the local craft store.

So on December 23rd, I took all this to Steve’s and got to work on constructing the boxes. The one box simply needed to be assembled and wrapped as it was to be there just as a shelf to make my last minute adornments accessible. The other, however, needed not only to support my weight, but allow me to climb to its top, then slide down into the stocking. I built a frame using the wood to fit snugly inside the box and reinforced two sides and the top. After decorating it with the wrapping paper and ribbon, I then screwed a couple of pulls to the opposing sides and also on top. Fortunately, I did the assembly in the great room so maneuvering the box into place was easy and didn’t require me hauling it up the basement stairs. Lastly, I used a stud finder to locate where to put two heavy-duty screw hooks which would suspend the stocking (and me). I positioned them so that the bottom of the stocking would be about 18 inches off the ground (unladen). I think that when he finds his surprise, Steve won’t be too upset about the two new holes in the drywall – nothing a strategically placed piece of art wouldn’t hide. After a long day and evening of preparation, I locked the place up, got in my car and drove back to my apartment to take a long, hot bath.

Christmas Eve morning I was full of anticipation and had a light breakfast. I shaved (all over), fixed my makeup and clipped my long blonde hair into a ponytail. I put on a pair of red pumps with a 4 inch heel, gathered up my bag of bondage equipment, purse and donned an overcoat and scarf. For the Christmas I was planning I wouldn’t need any clothes and driving to Steve’s house naked under my coat just added to my excitement.

After arriving I put my coat in the closet, set the room lights on ‘dim’ and lit the Christmas tree. The stocking and adjacent ‘presents’ were just as I had left them. I placed a padlock, pair of handcuffs, paperclip, and my sexy Santa hat on the box to the right. I sat down on the carpeted floor, surrounded by the rest of my equipment. Starting at my left heel, I took a piece of light chain, looped in under the heel of the shoe and back to the heel where I temporarily secured it to the beginning end with a small, unclosed padlock. I proceeded to loop the far end around my instep, then back to the lock where I pulled the chain tight, closing the lock in place. I found that this is a comfortable, nearly inescapable way of securing high heels to my feet.

After repeating this process for my right foot, I turned my attention to my crotch rope – after all, a girl has to have some fun, even if she is just a stocking stuffer. I had cut some red bondage rope to length and sealed the ends with a butane lighter so they would not fray. I doubled it up and, starting with a loop at the small of my back wrapped it around my waist and passed the two ends through the loop, pulling it tight. By now I was sopping wet so I lubed up a 1.5 inch butt plug in my pussy and slowly advanced it into my asshole. It took a few minutes, but eventually I drove it home. Passing the 2 inch dildo into my cunt was comparatively easy despite its girth. I had modified these by putting an eye screw into the outer ends of each of these allowing me to thread one of the ropes through them, securing them in my two holes. I brought both cords forward up through the rope at my waist, pulled tight and then tied several knots. When my hands were cuffed behind my back, these knots would not be accessible.

I put red leather cuffs around my ankles and locked them in place, then I took a nipple chain that had little nooses on each end and secured them to my now erect nipples. Attached to each end of the chains were the keys for all my locks and handcuffs. Again, with my hands cuffed behind me, they would be out of my reach – but not Steve’s. Working up my body, I put a red posture collar with a ring in front on my neck, secured with a lock in back. Lastly, I took a spider gag with a red-leather strap and placed the ring part behind my teeth, buckling it tightly behind by collar and locking it in place.

I got up off the floor, and packed up my bag after putting two 24 inch leather straps and two padlocks for them on top of the box to the left of the stocking. I put the bag in the closet and checked the clock. Steve should be home within an hour. I took a note that I had printed in large block letters, poked my head out the door to the garage, and taped it. What Steve would read was “Your present awaits you in the great room. Handle with care”.

Now for the riskiest part of this adventure. I used the pulls as footholds and handholds and climbed up to the top of the box at first sitting on my plugs, driving them even deeper into me. I grabbed the straps and locks then bent my legs under me so that my butt was sitting on my heels. I then threaded one strap though the ring on my ankle cuff, then around the front of my thigh, pulling the end tight to the buckle digging into the top front of my thigh. I placed the lock though the buckle’s ring, then repeated the frog-tie on the other side. I still was not at the point of no return as I could reach the keys to unlock myself and climb down the box, but I was a woman on a mission and was not to be denied my destiny as a stocking stuffer.

Now with restricted maneuverability, I carefully turned around so that my butt was pointing toward the stocking while on my hands and knees – what a sight I must have been! Grabbing the pulls with my hands, I began to slide my knees off the top of the box toward the stocking. I fished around with my knees and felt that one, then the other were within the top opening of the stocking. Once they were both in I let them slide in so that I was folded over the edge of the box at my waist. I then used the pulls to slowly lower myself. My shoes hung up for a moment on the lip of the stocking but with some wiggling I was able to free them and slide further into the sock. At this stage I was facing the left box and my plan was to be facing forward, so I took my left hand and grabbed the left front edge of the lip and pulled hard to rotate me as I released my right hand from the last pull and slid the last two feet in. (Instead of hanging the sock flat against the wall, I had designed it so the toe pointed out from the wall – this way my knees would slide into the toe while I faced forward into the room while I was maximally stuffed into the stocking.)

One thing I had not anticipated was that I was definitely leaning forward in the sock and as I slid home I caught the nipple chain on my ample breasts on the front lip of the sock. The tug smarted but it didn’t feel (I couldn’t see them due to the posture collar) like any permanent damage when I pushed myself off the front of the bag to examine them with my fingers. I got myself into a reasonably comfortable position (as comfortable you can be frog-ted in a hanging sock with plugs in your holes and spider gagged). It took me a moment to even contemplate that everything I had done up to this point had worked perfectly and that I had truly stuffed the stocking.

I reached over to the right box (now on my left), put on the sexy Santa hat and grabbed the padlock, handcuffs and paperclip. I took the lock and secured the ring on my collar to the ring on the front of the stocking. I then passed the cuffs under the crotch rope behind me, clicked it on one wrist, and then the other. I used the end of the paper clip to press the safety pins on the cuffs, then dropped it to the bottom of the sock.

There I was – naked and trussed up suspended in a Christmas stocking with no way to release myself. My freedom – and pleasure - relied on Steve. It’s funny how your mind starts to work at time like these – I cursed myself for not checking on the airline’s website to see if the flight was on schedule. What if he didn’t come straight home or tried calling me on my cell and decided to look for me at my apartment when I didn’t answer?

The inside of the stocking was soft and soon became warm from my body heat. I stopped worrying and started luxuriating on these sensations – my noosed nipples rubbing on the soft red fur, the plugs that filled my nether holes, and the overall feeling of being cocooned. I must have nodded off and I lost all sense of the passage of time. I awoke to the sound of the door to the garage closing and footsteps headed my way.

I wish I had a video camera (and a free hand to use it) to capture the series of expression on Steve’s face when he first saw me – surprise, concern, then pure lust. He strode up to me, put his hands firmly on my waist and planted a firm open kiss on my spider-gagged mouth, our tongues dancing together. He then stepped back and looked me and the whole setup over. “How did you ever do this?” he asked. I of course could not intelligibly reply. This became a bigger problem when he grasped the lock holding my collar to the stocking and asked “Where are the keys”. “On my nipples” came out as “Ohn-I-ii”. Then I tried to show him where my looking down at them, but the posture collar kept my head upright with my eyes unhelpfully looking at my nose. It was then that I realized that I had put a lot more thought on how to get into my bondage than on how to get out of it.

Steve stepped back and surveyed the situation. He saw that I was suspended by two hooks, so he reached up and lifted one of the rings that suspended me off its hook. That left me dangling at a precarious angle by the remaining hook. When he tried to disengage the other side that was bearing all my weight, he could not. Again he stepped back, hand fisted on his hips, and surveyed the situation. I was really hoping that that ring and hook would continue to carry my weight or else I’d unceremoniously fall to me knees and topple onto my boobs and face.

“I’ve got it!” he said triumphantly and trotted into the next room. He returned with a piano bench and scooted it in front of me. He then grabbed me by the waist, lifted me up, and slid the bench under my knees. At this point I was heavily leaning on Steve in order to stay upright, but this was the first time in hours I had something solid supporting my weight. Steve then reached up behind me and, now that my weight was off it, was easily able to disengage the remaining hook. He again picked me up by my waist, then turned and carefully laid me down with my back on the floor.

He seemed pleased as punch. I tried to scoot around a bit but could get no traction and if I did it would be irrelevant as I was still locked inside the stocking and Steve had still not figured out that the keys were on my nipples. “Now for me to unwrap my present,” he said, leaving the room once more. He came back with a pair of scissors and tried to cut the fabric holding the neck ring onto the stocking. Unfortunately, this was Kevlar and the scissors didn’t really make a dent. Equally unfortunate was the fact that my Kevlar scissors were tucked away in my apartment, not that it would matter as I couldn’t have told him where they were anyway.

I could see the gears in his head grinding once more. “Well, if I can’t have all my present right now, I’ll take what I can get,” he exclaimed. I wasn’t sure what that meant until I saw him unfasten his belt, unzip his fly and drop his pants and boxers. I then understood that erection and spider-gag equals blow-job. He bent over and grabbed me by my shoulders, bringing me to my knees. I was able to squat on them and the toes of my shoes and achieved some kind of tenuous balance. “Let’s see what kind of Christmas cheer Santa’s helper can conjure up,” he quipped.

With that he placed one hand behind my head, bringing my mouth to his prick. Now I know this is where most stories would talk about how he plunged his dick to the back of my throat through the gag’s ring, but in reality almost anyone with a decent size prick is too thick to get much more than part of the tip through the ring. I worked my lips and tongue as best I could to make up for not taking him deep in my mouth and from his rhythm and sighs, guessed that I was doing a pretty good job. Just then he reached down with his other hand to fondle my boobs.

“Oh my, what is this?” he asked as he fumbled with the keys dangling from a nipple. He stepped back and looked down the front of the stocking, seeing the nipple chain and attached keys. He reached in with both hand, loosening the nooses and retrieving the keys. The pain in my nipples was extraordinary and I wished that I could rub them, but as I couldn’t, all that I could do was let out a loud groan.

Steve sorted through the keys and found the one for the lock securing my collar to the stocking. Releasing me, he pulled the stocking down leaving me kneeling there stark naked except for my shoes, gag, collar, crotch rope and, oh yes, my naughty Santa hat.

“Now it’s time for me to play with the rest of my present,” he said matter-of-factly. He scooped me up in his arms and deposited me on his bed in his nearby master suite, leaving the keys on the great room floor. Lying on my cuffed arms I was glad I had engaged the safety on those cuffs. Steve then started working on the knot to my crotch rope removing it and the phallus in my pussy, but leaving the butt plug in place.

He peeled off his shirt and buried his face in my crotch, licking me slowly at first, then picking up the pace brining me nearly to orgasm. Reading that I was on the edge he disengaged, pushed my knees up onto my breasts, exposing me fully and climbed on top of me. I could feel his rock hard cock grazing my pussy lips. He looked into my eyes and said, “Looks like the stocking isn’t the only thing that’s going to get stuffed tonight”.

The End

story continues in part two
o0o

24.12.10