Angelas Christmas Crackers

Angela's Christmas Crackers

Copyright Oggbashan November 2019

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

"What do you want those for?" I asked Angela as she brought a third cardboard tube upstairs to our spare bedroom.

She had retrieved three large cardboard tubes, about thirty inches in diameter and three feet long from a skip on the building site that surrounded our newly built home.

"I can use them for this year's Christmas Cracker, Jason," she replied. "Unlike last year this will be a cracker for both of us."

I wasn't convinced. Last year she had made me into a Christmas Cracker on Christmas Day morning. Being her Christmas Cracker had been awkward, embarrassing and only rewarding afterwards. I had been confined inside for about an hour before she let me out. Although we had a safe word and signal, Angela got annoyed if I had to use either. She saw that as a failure on her part to restrain me safely and consensually. She enjoyed restraining me but if I had to use a safe word or signal she knew she had gone too far.

She had been making Irish dancing costumes for a youth group and had had yards of green Lycra material left over. She had thought she could make it into a Christmas Cracker with me inside as her 'present'. I thought she had spent to long and taken too much effort to make me her helpless victim.

Angela stood one tube on its end.

"Come here, Jason. Stand in it."

I stood inside the tube. It ended slightly below my waist. Angela climbed in beside me. There was room for both of us.

"Hold me," she ordered.

I put my arms around her. She picked up a second tube and lifted it above our head before settling it on the first one. We were hidden from view from outside and very close together. She kissed me.

"Yes, it would work," she said before removing the second tube and stepping out of the lower one.

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Last year I had woken up on Christmas morning to find Angela wanted me to be her Christmas Cracker. She started with two very long mermaid petticoats. I climbed into one that she pulled up to my armpits. The lower frill, held out with a hoop, splayed around my feet in a froth of satin and netting. She inverted another before easing it down outside my arms, squeezing them against my body. My head was concealed by the frills of the second petticoat. She followed that with a green lycra sheath pulled up to my armpits, trapping me further before an identical sheath dress down from above. Each sheath ended in a splayed skirt, held out by the frills of the petticoats.

She pushed me to be flat on the bed before she added red satin ribbons around my legs, just above my ankles, and another around my head, effectively gagging me. I was the shape of a Christmas Cracker. She took multiple pictures of my confinement as I struggled uselessly to free myself. Finally she loosened the ribbon over my mouth, pulled a satin petticoat bag containing one of her rock and roll petticoats over my head, fastening it around my neck. She tied the ribbon again, forcing the bagged petticoat to be tight around my head. I was constrained, gagged, and blindfolded breathing the residue of Angela's perfume on her rock and roll petticoat. She climbed over me and rubbed her bare sex against me until she had aroused herself to orgasm. I was frustrated. I was Angela's helpless sex toy unable to escape but aroused by her control of me.

She took the petticoat bag off my head, put the petticoat on herself before covering it with a calf length green skirt made from the same lycra material. She removed the hoop from the mermaid petticoat around my head and pushed the frills down before she stuffed my head up inside her skirt and petticoats. Her bare pussy clamped across my mouth as she expected me to arouse her again.

Although I managed to bring her to orgasm several times, each one nearly suffocated me as she clamped her legs around my head and pressed her skirt and petticoats tightly across my face.

Eventually, after more than an hour as her Christmas Cracker, she finally relented and released me before riding me to emission and back to sleep.

On Boxing Day she repeated the process with an addition. She tied my legs at ankles and thighs with red satin ribbons before stuffing them in an extra-large opaque green stocking. After hooding my head inside the petticoat bag she pulled my arms above my head, tied them at wrists and above the elbows before pulling the second stocking down to force the petticoat bag closely around my head. Only after that did she put me inside the mermaid petticoats and green sheaths tied with red satin ribbons. As she aroused herself on my restrained body I was restricted with my breathing and panting. When she removed the upper stocking and petticoat bag so I could arouse her with my tongue I could breathe until she had more orgasms.

That was last Christmas. That Christmas Cracker is still around and she could stuff me in it anytime. What did Angela intend with the cardboard tubes for this Christmas?

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She made up three layers of petticoat lining to go inside the three tubes and extend beyond each end. That material was stretchy. It would cling to anyone inside the cracker. At each end she attached the frills of yet another pair of mermaid petticoats with an elastic constriction just above the frills. She covered the outside with the green stretch material with flared skirts at either end. In the gaps between the tubes she sewed a wide strip of elastic webbing inside the green dress. As the webbing constricted it made the shape of a large Christmas Cracker. She put crinoline hoops sitting inside the webbing to hold it out.

She asked me to test it as she had made it so far. I crawled inside the tubing and past the crinoline hoops. I had trouble forcing my way inside the petticoat lining that clamped gently around me. When my body was inside the middle tube my legs were in the lower tube, and my head was inside the upper one. My feet were inside the frills of the lower mermaid petticoat and its constriction was around my ankles. My head was not as far as the constriction of the upper mermaid petticoat. If I tilted my head backwards all I could see was a small puckered hole below where the frills started.

Angela reached inside the lower tube to pull out the crinoline hoops. The wide elastic section clamped around my thighs. I could force my legs apart but not enough to slide my body out. I was trapped inside Angela's Christmas Cracker. She removed the crinoline hoops in the upper section. That constricted around my neck, not enough to impede my breathing but it made it difficult, but not impossible, to pull my head down.

"It works, Jason, it works!" she shouted loud enough for me to hear inside.

"I know," I shouted back. "Now get me out, please."

She didn't. She pushed her head inside the lower tube, past the constriction, pulled my boxers down, and liked my erection before filling her mouth with it. I couldn't stop her as she brought me to the point of no return again and again before letting me ejaculate in her mouth. She had a struggle to force her head out afterwards and left me as a helpless bundle for another quarter of an hour before re-fitting the crinoline hoops and pulling me out.

"Is there room for the two of us, Jason?" she asked.

"Maybe," I replied, "but it would be very tight in there and could we get out again? I don't think we could. It would be awkward if we were trapped inside your Christmas Cracker on Christmas Day. Who would get us out?"

For some reason that I didn't understand, Angela did not seem as concerned as I was. If we were to be trapped together I didn't know when we could be released and by whom. Our friends and neighbours were unlikely to visit on Christmas Day and very few had a key to our front door. We could be stuck for days.

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As I expected, on Christmas morning Angela heaved the Christmas Cracker on our bed. I crawled in naked. Angela took the crinoline hoops out of the upper section that tightened around my neck. She forced her way in and up my body. She had brought a couple of pairs of pantyhose with her, She used them to tie my arms by my sides, fastened around my wrists and elbows and wrapped around my body. She pushed her head up, her face in front of mine. The upper constriction pushed our faces together hard. She kissed me, her tongue lashing around in my mouth before the pressure around us became too much. She rested her head beside me and my face sunk into the masses of her hair.

I tried to object that it was dangerous as her feet kicked the lower crinoline hoops away from around our legs. As I opened my mouth to speak I spluttered as her hair filled it. By the time I had pushed it out, it was too late. Our legs were clamped together. I noticed that she had stockings on her legs but was unable to think further as she rubbed herself over my erection. My worry that we were trapped for hours if not days delayed my response but I soon lost any other thought as Angela slid my erection deep inside her and began too contract with slower movements gradually becoming faster and harder as she reached the first of several orgasms.

My worry that we were helplessly imprisoned in the Christmas Cracker helped me to hold back as Angela's movements became more and more frantic. I don't know how many times she aroused herself on me. It must have been close to a record number of times for any coupling between us.

I reached release when Angela forced her head around to kiss me again. As she moved her head back beside mine I drifted off to sleep exhausted and happy with just a niggling doubt that we had taken self-bondage too far.

I woke up to find that Angela had claimed my returning erection and was pounding up and down on me again. This time, coming from sleep straight into love making I couldn't hold back for more than a few minutes. I slumped back as Angela lifted herself off me.

She brought her hands up too ease the elastic holding our heads before pulling her head down into the middle section.

"How will you get out, Angela?" I asked sleepily.

"I will, Jason, but you won't." she answered.

Her hands came up again, spread the puckered hole in the frills of the mermaid petticoat, and pulled it down to rest over my mouth. I was gagged with the frills and my head covered in satin and net. I felt the tightness around our legs end and Angela wriggled herself down and out, her lips brushing over my flaccid erection as she went.

How had she got out? I didn't know. All I did know was that my head was firmly held in the upper section. Without the use of my arms I was unable to release it or to withdraw it into the middle section. I was gagged and couldn't protest as I felt Angela climb off the bed.

"I'll make breakfast," Angela said. "Stay there -- but I haven't left you an option, have I?"

I heard her get dressed and leave the bedroom. Try as hard as I could, I couldn't get my head down, nor could I move my body out of the Christmas Cracker. I relaxed and waited, helplessly, until Angela returned.

She pushed her hands I from the top and spread the constriction over my mouth and around my neck. She pushed my head down into the main section. Because my arms were still tied to my sides I was unable to make any move to extricate myself. Angela pulled at my legs until I emerged.

"How did you get out?" I asked.

"Simple," She answered. "I had put a knife in each of my stocking tops. I sliced through the elastic, and then I could slide out, leaving you as my victim."

I had been. I was, again, on Boxing Day morning. When Angela had drained me she slid out past where the now cut constriction had been, before tying a satin ribbon to hold my legs and gagging me with the frills of the mermaid petticoat.

That year's Christmas Cracker was too large, with the cardboard tubes inside, to store for use for another Christmas. Angela modified it, removing the cardboard. Even without them I was helpless inside it and when Angela joined me we were held closer together. It was far more of an effort for her to get out than it had been with the tubes, and more difficult for her to release me when she thought I had been restrained long enough.

But what will she do to me for next Christmas? Use the two Christmas Crackers she has already made or some other version? Whatever she does, I will be her helpless victim again.

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