O Christmas Tree

O Christmas Tree

Blade stared at the Christmas tree. Ryan lived in a apartment that could generously be described as a roomy broom closet, and he had a Christmas tree. Granted it wasn’t very big, just large enough to escape the derision of being labeled a twig, but still it was a tree, perched on the kitchen table. There had to be some top law against it--fire hazard or sanitation issue. It was in the kitchen, surely closing the impossibly small space for the season.

Brushing by the tree to get a glass, Blade studied the tree in closer detail. It wasn’t an ordinary tree; no, sir it wasn’t. The lights weren’t a sophisticated white or a multi-color bonanza, but red and black. The tree was festooned with candy canes and silver and gold paper chains. A garland of silk wound around the tree; Blade quickly imagined far more interesting things as he fingered the silky material. Ryan hadn’t tied him up for real; he’d been very cautious with bondage ever since Blade had blabbered about his misadventure at hide and seek. Blade let the silk drape over his wrist. This was ridiculous; he was getting hard touching a Christmas tree, a decoration for a holiday celebrated by children with dreams of innocent presents: toy trains, teddy bears, and board games with confusing rules to be thwarted by clever players.

Blade cupped his hand around an ornament, hanging invitingly from a branch. He stroked the tiny leather strands of the miniature flogger. Above it was a tiny crop, and to the left lay the coils of a whip. The Christmas bulbs hanging from the tree suddenly looked far less innocent. Miniature butt plugs.

“So you like it?” Ryan’s voice boomed from the doorway. 

Blade swallowed and licked his lips. “Pity some of the items aren’t full size.”

“Oh, I think we can fix that.”