HOE HOE HOE! Yes, that’s right, it’s Christmas — the sauciest time of the year! Whether its kissing a longstanding crush beneath the mistletoe or jingling a co-workers bells at the office Christmas do, there’s something about these dark, cold months that seems to get so many of us hot under the collar.
By now, you’ll have no doubt perused our ultimate gift guides for the upstanding fashion fans in your life, but we understand if you were left wanting for options for your more depraved loved ones. We’re sorry, masters, we have misbehaved and we must be PUNISHED! *kisses your feet* As a token of reconciliation, we’ve put together a handy list of gifts to give the naughty little freaks that you call your loved ones — from the lingerie your frazzled English divorcee aunt has earmarked in her shopping catalogue to the sling your dom top daddy’s dying to dick you down in; the perfect harness for a first-time Feelder to the ideal prep kit for your posh gal pal who lives for a ruddy good orgy. After all, Christmas is the season for spreading the love — and, if you’re getting with any of the people listed below, probably a couple of other things too!
The bisexual girlfriend in a straight relationship
She’s not really sure what happened this year, bless her. Lockdown ended and she emerged into a post-pandemic world of domesticity and, even worse, heterosexuality. Nothing interesting happened for the entire year, not even when she got briefly cancelled on TikTok for saying she was in a queer relationship because she was bi, even though her boyfriend was straight in an embarrassing Nuts-magazine-Lewis-Capaldi-Facebook-crying-laughing-emoji kind of way. And no Christmas gift will lift that ennui, sadly, not even the coveted beige Birkenstock clogs she fought off legions of women with wolf cuts and linen dungarees to get her hands on. But next year she swears it will all be different. She’s already told her straight boyfriend what she wants under the tree on Christmas day (a nice affair at his mum’s house in East Sussex): a limited-edition vinyl pressing of Shygirl’s “Coochie” and a pair of tickets for Pxssy Palace, which she is very much allowed to go to, thank you very much! She just might not bring him. The rest of the presents her boyfriend flat-out refused to bring to mummy and daddy’s, and to be honest, she’s worried he’s dreading them already. But she sent him that link to the strap-on all the way back in the summer and he was up for it then (kind of), and she’s asked for some supplementary gifts to improve the experience. Waiting back at home for them in Bow is some Foria CBD lube — to relax him! — and a Charli XCX douche — to prepare him! — and she’s antsy to get home to both. That’s Boxing Day sorted. For now she has to endure the indignity of a turkey dinner at the in-laws, making sure nothing gets posted on Instagram that looks too obviously Tory, and surreptitiously scrolling Feeld on the sofa during endless family games of Pictionary.
The dom top daddy
Though you’re invariably on the receiving end in this relationship, ‘tis the season for giving, you silly sub twink! It’s time to unclench that purssy for the dom top daddy in your life — to shower him with lavish, lustful gifts like that sling he’s been banging on about banging you in, or a Go-Pro for handsfree POV filming. A bottle of Excalibur XO and some Gun Oil will make for perfect stocking fillers. And if your daddy is at all close to deserving the prefix ‘grand’, consider adding some glucosamine supplements to his weekly PrEP boxes to help keep his hip flexors in good nick. If his manhood is beginning to fail to match the toughness of his general demeanour during playtime, then a chic, solid metal cock ring should help preserve his pride. To this end, you could, of course, opt for some over-the-counter Viagra, but there’s, like, a 60% chance that mixing those with poppers at his age will end in a cardiac emergency. Given that you’re not likely guaranteed to inherit his Tom of Finland shrine-cum-penthouse in his will, it’s really not worth the risk. Of course, physical objects aren’t the only things you could gift him — thoughtfully curated experiences are often winning options, too. Then again, given that this is the sort of man who’ll try to get you to nosh him off under the table at a restaurant with literally 20 covers, and will shame you for eating anything more than a side salad, a bowl of ice chips and Pure for Men capsules, skip dinner, we say, and take him out to somewhere like Vault 139 for an all-you-can-eat bussy buffet.
The posh orgy goer
You don’t need to pick up a copy of Tatler to know that orgies are the new hunt parties and blowjobs are the new elevenses. Yah, rahlly! Posh people are at it like Daylesford rabbits, and just like their politics, their tastes are getting more and more extreme! No longer is it just well-connected circles of people, loving in triangles and living on squares; Kensington has gotten kinky, Fulham is full of freaks, Putney is nicknamed Slutney, and pegging has made it to the Palace. Bedford Square even has a basement BDSM club — a room of one’s own, indeed! That’s not to say things aren’t kept classy in (tastefully converted) SW7 basements of iniquity. Chez Caroline and Charles will always need Aesop hand sanitiser, sculpture-like dildos, Coco de Mer lingerie, Hermès equestrian whips and saddles, and regular STD check-ups at the Cadogan Clinic. You can take the girlies out of the Royal Borough… But what to get the ones who have everything? Well, perhaps it’s not just about the act itself, but more about the prep. A Goop vaginal steamer, perhaps? Dr Barbara Sturm V Wash? Perhaps even The Oh Collective’s ‘Dream Team’ package of chic navy sex toys that come with various power chargers for those filthy weekends at the country pile. A More Joy silk eye mask could well double up as a blindfold, and we’re sure a ‘nanny’ uniform would go down a treat when it comes to role-playing fantasies.
First-time Feelder
Blame it on Covid. Just as people got more experimental with interiors, baking, and fermenting whatever they could, so too have the sexual appetites of the masses veered into esoteric pastures. Whereas once normies simply logged onto Tinder when they were horny, today there seems to be an influx of first-timers on more advanced sex apps like Feeld. According to them, they’ve always been “kinky” — hey, they’ve had threesomes! They have a bullet at home! They’ve been to Torture Garden! Well, dear reader, as you can probably tell by this gift guide, that is NO LONGER ENOUGH! Perhaps it’s a coping mechanism in the face of the brutal cost of living — a way of heating things up in lieu of having the radiators on, if you will — but we are living in extreme times, and people have gotten EXTREMELY kinky. Now, are you really kinky if you have Lovehoney open on one tab, and Ocado on the other? Can you truly call yourself a cruiser if you’ve never paid your dues by trekking through frosty bushes in the dead of winter? Do you have a burner phone and sounding rod in your backpack at all times? If the answer is no, it means that you are a fairweather Feelder! You’re not really kinky — you’re just bored! What to get those who say they’re looking to “spice things up” as they say, and “explore their sexuality” and meet “like-minded souls for NSA”? In reality, they’re scrolling endlessly through the app’s gimp mask-fronted profiles — a part of them intrigued from afar, another part of them freaking the fuck out. What they really want — perhaps even need — this Christmas is a bottle of delay spray, a few new pairs of white socks (they’re very much the sort to keep them on during), a nice new harness for coyly flashing to the bouncer on those nights out at Klub Verboten, a gym subscription at OneRebel to ease them into cruising, a DVD of Secretary, and a membership to Shoreditch House — which, let’s be honest, is much more their cup of tea.
The frazzled English divorcee
Aunt Yvonne is very much ready to get back out there now that Uncle Tony is out of her life (and out of her house, although it took him a while to vacate the spare room). She just doesn’t know what “out there” actually looks like anymore. It’s been a lifetime since she was single, and while she’s recovered some of the artefacts of her misspent youth by buying herself treat-your-self single gal pressies — namely some dark burgundy and red lippies that don’t necessarily do her any favours — she needs all the help she can get. The sexual landscape has changed, auntie. It’s not all bullet vibrators and rampant rabbits and ticklers and furry handcuffs anymore. If your mum is taking on the position of festive wingwoman, then you need to step into the position of educator. A week ago Auntie Yvonne sent you a mortifying WhatsApp message asking you what a ‘squirt blanket’ is. “I’ll get you one to try!” you reply through gritted teeth, and subtly add some vaginal moisturisers to the same gift basket. If she’s getting back out there, good for her, but the world of vaginal health has also changed since Tony, you guess. So pop her some Ben Wa balls for her Kegels and a yoni egg as well. Then comes the self-care portion of her stocking. Some nice La Perla lingerie to open on Christmas day in front of her teenage children, who are slowly dying of embarrassment. Then again they bought her some nice coffee for her morning afters and a cocktail subscription to keep her new bachelorette bar cart stocked up for the nights before. So perhaps they’re being supportive too.
The DL politician
Last Christmas was certainly a memorable one for our privately depraved politico. It was just a week before the big day that the — ahem — incident came to light, and he was forced to stand before the cameras in a grey Moss Bros suit with noticeable wear at the knees. He apologised to his constituents. Never again would he — a man bound by civic duty — engage in such depraved acts. Or never again would he be caught engaging in them, more like. You see, for this DL dog there are few places to cruise for cock like the Commons — Westminster, that is, though Clapham and Wandsworth are close seconds — and there are few things he’s willing to give up less than railing lines and getting rawed in The Red Lion’s stalls after a long hard day of whipping (the votes!). If he’s not going to forego his dicey dalliances, then this Christmas, at least help him be a bit more subtle in going about them. First things first, steer him away from Grindr — even your mum recognises that tri-tone ‘brrrup!’ at this point — and onto Sniffies, the latest online go-to for anon horndogs in the know. A face-obscuring balaclava wouldn’t go amiss for the times there isn’t a gloryhole within a reasonable range, and a family-man’s golden retriever at least offers an innocent cover for his nightly ‘strolls’ on the Heath. Given that he’s the sort of man who likes to play with fire, though, he’s desperate to sprinkle his tawdry work life with a bit of spice. Since furtively flicking through Reba Maybury’s entire oeuvre on his Kindle on his morning commutes, he’s obviously been squirming at the thought of secretly sporting a lacy thong, nipple clamps and a chastity cage beneath that crease-prone polywool suit. The key, of course, would be kept in the charge of that saucy spad he’s basically a slave to, who’d also have the power to activate one of those app-controlled vibrating butt plugs at whim during his briefings. It’s a lot, we know, but Christmas is a time for embracing people for the freaks they are, not shaming them for it!