My Christmas Present From Him

25th December 2024:

And so it begins. I step out of my warm shower on Christmas morning and follow His every command. I carefully dry my body from tip to toe and stand there in front of the mirror admiring how well I have kept myself given that I am now 49. I am no model but I am proud of how healthy I still am. My 32-b cups are still not quite sagging, my tummy showing hints of a tight abdomen, and my body completely hairless apart from my shoulder length brown hair and a small trimmed patch above my swollen vagina. I looked good, for Him.

My hand trembles as I pick up the black satin thong, the same one that He told me to steal from my sister-in-law's washing basket two days earlier. As it's Christmas I treat myself by bringing them to my face and taking a deep and slow breath, inhaling her musky scent and delighting in how soft the thong feels against my upper lip.

My knees tremble as I step into the used underwear. It feels sooooo right that her dirty thong is the first thing to touch my clean flesh, and my skin flushes red with heat and humiliation. I can picture Him in my head standing there with a satisfied evil grin on His face as the thong nestles tightly into my soft flesh. Gawd they feel amazing.

Next is the pair of 10-denier pop socks that she gave me. Yes, she gave me them! They are clean but this all came from a humiliating challenge that He gave me, where I was to ask her what to wear for the Christmas dinner that we are all attending as a family at my house. She said I should wear my red sequin top and some black leggings. I told her that the leggings would look daft and she corrected me by saying "not with the right heels". So there I was, rolling on her pop socks so that I could wear my shiny, red, 3-inch heels all day, for Him.

After a few more minutes I looked at myself in the mirror. Done! Red top, skin tight black leggings, her pop socks and my high heels. Wow, she was right. But no one would know the humiliation i was going to go through by having her used thong squeeze i to my flesh all day, as we innocently chat and dine as a family.

Now for the icing on the humiliation cake. He tasked me to change my scent by asking her to tell me what perfume to wear. After an embarrassing yet innocent chat about perfume she said I should try Kenzo Flowers. I spray it on my neck and back of my wrists, then give a few squirts down my top onto my cleavage. It's not my type of perfume but again I can see His evil grin in my minds eye.

So there I was, dressed as they would like me to be dressed. Smelling as they think I should. Yet clenching my inner muscles soooo tightly I think I could scream in ecstatic humiliation. Why do I crave this? What is wrong with me? And why do I crave a darker and more depraved future that only He can give me? No one who knows me in real life would believe that I am standing here in my sis in law's discarded underwear, looking and smelling the way I do to please others. Oh my gawd.

I parade in front of the mirror for a few minutes, admiring His work. Humiliating perfection. Gawd I love Him. My inner muscles seem to clench constantly, my toes curl in my heels, and I know that my own intimate wetness is now being absorbed by the flimsy satin material that is clamped to my wet folds. Gawd they are going to be so wet and messy at the end of the day. But that worry is for a later time. For now, with clammy hand, I open the door and step out of my bedroom and head to the lounge where everyone is waiting for their Christmas dinner, including her.

Gawd help me survive this!

28th December 2024:

Oh my gawd! What a day that was. Innocently chatting with her over dinner, whilst her previously worn thong clung to every millimetre if my own wetness. If she, or my hubby, had any idea then they would kill me, yet He has led me down this dark route to deprivation that i now find myself addicted to, and yearning for further darkness and humiliation. So much more than I could ever dream of.

I found myself so drawn into His darkness that I simply couldn't take her thong off a few nights ago. I snuggled into hubby in our marital bed, with his sisters soaking wet thong stuck to my wet folds, and her pop socks still on my feet.

Gawd, what if he touched me down there that night. What if he kissed and licked me between my trembling thighs? Would he have noticed the soaking wet thong that wasn't even mine? Would he have sensed the new aroma down there? Would it have turned him on more? Would he have noticed how swollen and desperate my nether lips were? Desperate to be used and abused? Gawd!!

Anyway, I now find myself back at my sister-in-laws house, with trembling hands, looking down at her washing basket. Everyone is downstairs chatting, and I excused myself to go to her bathroom so that I could return the worn thong as per His instructions.

My heart was racing, the thong had now dried out but it is clear if you look hard enough to see that this underwear has been worn far more than what I originally found. Oh my gawd. I need to please Him, they need returned, but what if she notices the additional stains when doing her next washing? Fuck! I simply must do it. He has instructed me to do so and I dare never to displease Him. He is my rock, my dark magnet. The only one who really knows me. The REAL me!

With a clearly visible trembling hand I lift the lid on the basket, lift up a day or twos worth of items, and hide my shame amidst the pandoras box of worn items.

As I descend the stairs back to everyone I know my flesh is flushed, my breathing is heavy, my heart is racing, toes curling in my heels, and my own panties are soaking. All for Him.

Gawd I LOVE Him Xx