He'd encouraged her to watch the special edition of "Surviver" with him for 13 weeks. She followed her husband's lead and watched the show, seated beside him on the sofa. As the events unfolded on the television set, he became visibly aroused.
"Honey," she asked, "why does this excite you so? It seems so silly. I mean, would you really want me to dress up like a pony and pull a wagon in a race?"
"Oh, yeah! You'd look great in those arm and leg chains, too."
She squirmed uncomfortably on the sofa before responding, "That stuff doesn't really happen to normal people like us. We're not like them."
He scrutinized her face. Sadly shaking his head, he turned back to the television and watched the commercial with the topless mermaid. Oh yes, he could imagine his wife in that commercial as well!
They'd been happily married for five years. His job took him out on the road frequently, and his homecomings always included great sex. He really had no complaints. But he also had a wish list that was fired by the things he'd seen on this TV show. But she wasn't ready, and he wasn't willing to push her into anything. Like fine wine, he believed that nothing was ready before its time.
He'd taped every show. The tapes were labeled and placed in the storage cabinet. He hoped that someday his wife would ask to view them with him again.
In December, his boss told him that he was going to have to go on the road for two solid weeks prior to Christmas. In fact, he wouldn't be returning home until Christmas Eve.
She packed his suitcase and kissed him good-bye.
"I'm going to miss you, honey. Please call me when you arrive. I love you."
"I'll call you as soon as we land. Take care of yourself. I'll be home sometime after 7:30 on Christmas Eve. The time depends on my flight and the cab ride. But don't worry; I'll definitely be home for Christmas!"
They kissed a long, lingering kiss, only breaking apart when the cab horn became insistent.
Alone, she was so alone. The house seemed empty without him. She took out his old tee shirt that he'd worn to bed last night, held it to her face, and inhaled deeply. Her first night alone, she slept wearing that shirt.
The second night, she wrapped his presents and moved the ornaments around on the tree. She felt the need to "do" something - but she had no idea what it was that was driving her to distraction.
A flash of inspiration had her digging in the tape storage unit. She found the tapes he'd made of that show about bondage and masters and slaves and things. She decided to watch them. This time, she decided, she might be able to figure out why they interested him so much. If nothing else, she'd be able to watch them without the distraction of his comments and erections.
She watched. She absorbed. She felt. She began to understand.
Night after night she rushed home from work to watch the tapes. Sometimes she fast-forwarded through the "boring" parts, going to the sexy parts and the bondage parts, and the submissive parts. She began to imagine herself as one of the contestants. She dreamed of bondage and submission to him.
One evening, she got an idea. She suddenly realized that she would be able to give him the "perfect" Christmas present. So she quickly began to gather the things she needed to surprise her husband. Some of the items she obtained included handcuffs, rope, a ball gag, duct tape, and a dishwasher box. She covered the five sides of the box with festive holiday paper and made a big red bow for on top. She also drew a special gift tag and attached it to the bow. The bottom of the box was open.
Around 6:30 on Christmas Eve, she began her preparations for his return. First she bathed but kept her body nude afterwards. She used the duct tape to tape her ankles together. She fashioned a crotch rope and a rope bra to show off her assets in a new and exciting way. She placed the gag in her mouth and buckled it behind her head. The way it kept her mouth so stretched amazed and humbled her. While her arms were still free, she knelt and used tape to loop around her shins and thighs so that she couldn't stand up. She attached the handcuff to her left wrist. She taped the handcuff key to her right breast. She pulled the box over her. Once she was in the dark, she bent forward and brought her arms behind her back. Somehow, she managed to attach the other handcuff around her right wrist.
In the dark, she waited. Her heart raced. He skin glistened with nervous sweat. She felt moisture gathering between her legs. Soon, in her mind, she began chanting her mantra, "Come home, come home, come home."
Her legs started to ache. Her arms were tired. Her back was tiring. He nose itched. Where was he?
Then a car door slammed. A key rattled in the lock. A hearty, "Honey, I'm home!"
He stared at the big box sitting in front of the door. Sitting his suitcase and bottle of celebratory wine down, he approached the box and read the tag.
"Merry Christmas, Darling. Open me first!"
Wondering what this was, and hoping beyond hope that it was her, he lifted
the box and grinned at his special present.