by LSF Publications
by Alan Barr
"What are you getting me for Christmas this year?" she asked him casually over breakfast one morning.
"I haven't thought of anything yet," he replied, slightly guiltily. "Is there anything you want?"
"There probably is - but I prefer it when you choose something. You know what they say - it's the thought that counts."
"But what if I choose wrong?"
"It doesn't matter. The pleasure for me is in knowing you've made the effort to go into the shop and look around and make the decision. I like to think of you being all awkward and out of your depth in the perfume department..."
"Or horribly embarrassed at the underwear counter?"
"Yes, even better! It shouldn't be too easy. It should require a bit of effort on your part - even a bit of pain."
"That's sadistic!"
"I don't care! And don't you want to know what I'm getting you?"
"You wouldn't tell me anyway!"
"No, of course I wouldn't. But I will tell you this - I've given it more thought than ever this year, and I've come up with something quite unusual, quite unlike anything I've ever given you before. It isn't cheap, but I'm sure you'll like it - once you've got over the surprise, that is. Yes, I think you'll like it very much indeed. You may even decide it's the best present ever."
"The best present ever? Now that is a confident claim!"
"Isn't it!"
"Don't I get a clue of some sort?"
"No, I don't think so. I want it to be a complete surprise."
He pretended to be deep in thought for a few seconds then raised a finger as if inspiration had suddenly struck. "Is it socks?"
"Damn! How did you guess?"
He didn't waste too much time pondering his mystery present. Like most men, Christmas didn't figure too prominently in his thoughts. It was something to be endured as much as enjoyed! To be honest, he didn't much care what she got him - he had everything he needed anyway. Whatever it turned out to be, he'd make the necessary appreciative noises. And he would be grateful too. Not so much for whatever weird and wonderful object it turned out to be, but because after nineteen years of marriage, she still cared enough to put that amount of effort into it. Now, what the hell was he going to get her?
Do you have anything planned for Christmas Eve?" she asked him casually over breakfast one morning.
"No, nothing."
"Only I thought I might pop out for a drink with Doreen after dinner."
"Fine." Why had she even bothered to mention it, he wondered.
"So, could you make sure you're in all evening?"
He raised a quizzical eye over the corner of his newspaper. "Does it matter?"
"Yes it does. That's when your present is being delivered."
"Oh, I see. Well, yes, I'll be here. But can you trust me not to open it? That's the question!"
"No, I want you to open it. There's no need to wait for Christmas Day. It's the sort of present which needs to be opened straight away."
"Really? This just gets curiouser and curiouser!"
"You get off now. Don't worry about me." There was a note of exasperation in his voice. The run-up to Christmas is always a stressful time for the man of the house. If he was honest, he was rather looking forward to spending the evening on his own.
"You will hear the doorbell when it rings, won't you? You won't fall asleep in front of the telly like you normally do?"
"No, of course not. If I did that, I'd never solve this bloody mystery you've concocted, would I? You get off. I'll be fine."
He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally managed to shut the front door behind her. She'd been on edge all day worrying about the wretched delivery. She even made him have a shave and change into clean clothes! Why all that fuss for a bloody delivery driver was beyond him. Delivery drivers never stop long enough to notice what you're wearing. They just push some weird gadget in front of your nose, and then you make some squiggle that looks nothing like your signature with some weird sort of electronic pencil which doesn't even write properly, and then they're off.
After so much fuss, the 'best present ever' couldn't help but be an anti-climax. He still didn't have a clue what to expect, but at the end of the day, there were only a certain number of things which a present could be. It might, for example, be something to eat, or it might be something to wear. Or it might be something practical like a tool for his shed or something for the office. Or it might be more cultural - a book or a music CD. Or maybe it was an activity - a subscription to a course, or some sort of holiday. Any of those would be perfectly acceptable - he'd just be glad now when it finally arrived and the mystery was solved!
Once he'd turned the TV on, he soon got drawn into a documentary about rhino poaching in South Africa, and the mystery was temporarily forgotten once more. When the bell did finally ring, it nearly made him jump out of his skin.
He opened the door and extended his hand, ready to take the infernal gadget for the signing of the signature - but no infernal gadget was forthcoming. There was just a young woman in a very short skirt standing on the doorstep. Instead of putting a gadget in his outstretched hand, she shook it.
"Hello!" she grinned. "My name is Naomi. I'm here to deliver your Christmas present."
Try as he might, he could see no parcel, nor any sign of the van Naomi had brought it in. He stared at her expectantly, but she just smiled back.
"Well, where is it?" he asked at length.
"Where is what?"
"The parcel. My present."
She smiled again. "Ah! You don't quite understand. I haven't brought you a present. I am your present."
There was another long silence before he recovered his composure sufficiently to speak. "There must have been some mistake. I'm a happily married man. I could never ... My wife must have misunderstood ... I'm afraid I must ask you to leave ... Miss ... er ..."
"Naomi. Perhaps I could just step inside for a moment? I have a letter here from your wife. If you read it, everything will become clear."
My darling,
Well, what do you think of your present? She is called Naomi. I have spoken to her at length, and she is a really nice girl, and I am sure you will like her a lot. But I imagine you're still a little confused about all this, so first a word of explanation.
I have always considered myself so fortunate to have married you. You are the kindest and most considerate of men. I would like to think I have got to know you very well over the years, perhaps better than you realise. I know, for example, that there is a certain activity you like to fantasise about more than anything else. How do I know? Well it's pretty obvious from the films you like to watch over and over again, the dog-eared pages in certain novels, not to mention those old magazines you think I don't know about, or your internet browsing habits. Yes, I'm a much better detective than you would probably give me credit for!
In the early days of our marriage, I was a little alarmed by your secret fantasy world, but I soon reassured myself that it wasn't so very unusual. As time went by, I came to accept that it was completely harmless and benign. You have nothing to feel guilty about, my love, but as for me, I do feel guilty because I have never been brave enough to join you, to help you to act out those secret fantasies which I know are a big part of who you are. The plain truth is that I just don't feel confident or comfortable with it. It seems to belong in some other, slightly dark world, and it scares me a little. Do you remember a couple of occasions when you dropped quite unsubtle hints - times when you were testing me to see if I would take the bait? You probably thought I didn't cotton on - but I did. I was just too afraid to confront the issue. Our marriage has been wonderfully rewarding in so many ways, but perhaps if I could have been brave enough to indulge you in your secret desires, it would have been a bit more passionate too. Please forgive me for my cowardice.
I hope you now understand why I've hired Naomi to be your Christmas present - and hopefully the best present ever. I want you to act out your favourite fantasies with her, and do it without the slightest feeling of guilt - not only because I fully condone it, but also because I have satisfied myself that Naomi is not being exploited in any way. She is not a prostitute, she is a professional submissive. She works independently and uses the money to supplement her income while she is a student. Furthermore, she has sworn to me that she genuinely enjoys the work. I'm going to spell it out for you, in case you're still a bit confused: Naomi wants you to spank her!
So what are you waiting for? Open your present! Have a wonderful evening because you deserve it.
Happy Christmas!!
PS. I love you very, very much.
The best present ever! How amazing, he thought, that you could know someone so well for so long and yet they could still have the ability to surprise you, to make you admire them even more than you did already. And then later, when she came home, she didn't make a lot of fuss about it. She just gave him her usual warm smile, and asked simply, "Did you enjoy your present?" as if it was no big deal at all.
He felt quite emotional then. He almost started crying as he held her close. "It was amazing. It really was the best present ever. I don't know what to say. I can't believe you would do something like that for me. It was so unbelievably generous - and I don't just mean the money ..."
"It was no more than you deserve," she shrugged. "Now, I want to hear all about it."
"I'm sure you'd rather not!"
"But I would! You're allowed to spank another woman, but you're not allowed to have secrets from me. I know you'll enjoy re-living it, and it will make me feel like I'm not excluded. So tell me, what did you think of Naomi when you first saw her?"
"I thought she was an incredibly beautiful young woman. It wasn't just her looks, it was her personality too. She was intelligent and articulate, open and honest. Even without the spanking, to have spent an evening in her company would have been an enormous pleasure. You're so clever to have found her. How on earth did you do it?"
"It's amazing what you can find on the internet these days. But you're right, it wasn't easy. I interviewed five others before I found Naomi - and what a motley crew they were! Considering they were supposed to be submissives, some of them were surprisingly surly and demanding! But Naomi was just so lovely. As soon as I met her I knew she was the one. I knew I'd be happy leaving my husband in her tender care. So what did you do first? How did you get the ball rolling, so to speak?"
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