“That's it, Ladies. Get under their nice and deep. Your gifts are down there somewhere...maybe right at the back!” Mr. Henderson's gameshow-host baritone echoed across the room and over the heads of the prone figures of Freddy and his Mother.
“Hey, Mom!” Freddy hissed, giving a furious side-eye. “Maybe your promotion's under here too...” His Mother didn't return his glare. Her makeup caked face just kept on looking earnestly under her boss's office Christmas tree as if the keys to her future career did indeed lie down there somewhere. Freddy sighed and chewed on his ruby coated lower lip. How had he allowed himself to get roped into his Mom's shameless scheme like this? Was his dignity really worth so little? Behind them, the magnanimous Mr. Henderson was lighting a fireplace and Freddy felt the flames warm his exposed buttcheeks. He wanted to reach back and pull the Christmas jumper back down over his ass but the last thing he needed was to draw any further attention to his rear than necessary. It was bad enough that the panties his Mom had given him to wear were on full display.
“Oh, Sir, you are far too generous!” His Mother announced in a liquorice sweet voice as she laid her hands on a pair of wrapped boxes Really, these gorgeous Christmas jumpers were more than enough!" She leaned in close to Freddy so that her dark hair became intermingled with the blonde highlights of his wig and gave him a stern look that said 'Don t ruin this for me!' Freddy rolled his eves and felt his heavy lashes as he did so remind him he was wearing even more makeup than his mother. The jumpers really were more than enough. His mother had flirted shamelessly with Mr. Henderson throughout the party and when he had insisted they stay for champagne in his office after the rest of the guests had left, he had presented them with a pair of Christmas jumpers - the figure hugging kind that were meant to be worn like dress - a dress that rode up mercilessly when you started crawling around on your hands and knees.
“Oh no...” Freddy gasped as he saw what his mother had produced from the first of the gift boxes. She was holding a pair of pink fur-lined handcuffs from one of her French-tipped fingers. The cogs of greeds were turning behind her eyes as she pondered how much she wanted this promotion. Meanwhile, Mr. Henderson's son had taken his place in the doorway of his father's office and the two men gazed down at the two women on their knees beneath the Christmas tree with matching grins stretched across their faces.
“Don't worry, Jessica. You have a pair too!” Mr. Henderson smiled and put his arm around his son's shoulders. “We are a family company here. If you can make my boy happy, I will be sure to make your mother very happy indeed!” Freddy's pretty mouth dropped open in horror just as his mother thrust the remaining gift box triumphantly into his hands.
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