~ Gift Wrapped ~
Willow is a perfectly behaved pet whitetail… at least in public. Behind closed doors, she’s her husband Rowan’s very opinionated wife. When her best friend Sarah suggests a special “gift” for Rowan’s birthday, Willow thinks she’s ready for revenge. She’s not ready for what actually happens.
~ Gift Wrapped ~
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
July 2026
All Rights Reserved.
Chapter One
Rowan walked his doe through town like he did every Tuesday afternoon.
The big anthro timber wolf kept an easy pace beside his wife, one paw holding the loose lead. Willow trotted at his side, halter neatly buckled, coat freshly brushed until it gleamed. She looked exactly like what everyone assumed she was: a remarkably well-trained whitetail pet. Head up, steps calm, ears flicking at the usual street sounds. The little silver tag on her halter chimed softly with every stride.
A couple of older ladies paused to smile.
“What a beautiful girl,” one of them said. “So well behaved!”
Rowan gave them a polite nod. “Thank you.”
Willow kept walking. Perfectly polite. Perfectly silent.
They turned into the bakery on Maple Street. The warm smell of cinnamon scrolls hit her the second the door opened. Willow’s nostrils flared. She stared into the glass case without moving a muscle, doing her best impression of a normal deer who had simply noticed something interesting.
The mule deer behind the counter spotted her and grinned.
“There’s my favourite regular.” He slipped a small broken piece of scroll into a paper bag and leaned over to offer it to her. “Can’t let you leave empty-hoofed.”
Willow took the treat delicately and chewed while Rowan paid for a loaf of bread and some biscuits. The baker gave her a friendly scratch behind the ear on the way out. She accepted it without complaint.
Just another ordinary stop on an ordinary Tuesday.
They continued down the street — greengrocer, post office, quick loop through the park where a few people waved or commented on what a lovely pet she was. Willow played the part perfectly. Curious but calm. Obedient. Sweet.
No one had the slightest clue.
* * *
Chapter Two
When they reached the front door of the cottage, Rowan turned the key. The moment it clicked shut behind them he reached down and unclipped the lead. He unbuckled the halter and hung it with the lead on the hook by the door.
Willow gave herself a full-body shake and flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “If one more person calls me a good girl today,” she said, “I’m actually going to bite someone.”
Rowan snorted as he kicked off his shoes. “You were playing it up extra sweet today. That little head tilt at the greengrocer? Award-worthy.”
“Yeah, well, he gave me carrot tops. I earned those.” She rolled onto her side, stretching out across most of the couch. “Also, I’m still thinking about those cinnamon scrolls. If Gerald gives me one more broken piece, I’m staging a protest. That deer is a sadist. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
Rowan headed into the kitchen and started unpacking the shopping. “You had a piece.”
“That was a sample. Samples don’t count. I want at least two full ones next time or I’m filing for divorce.”
He laughed, the low easy sound that always made her ears relax. “Noted. I’ll bring home a whole tray if it keeps the peace.”
Willow watched him move around the kitchen from her spot on the couch. This was the part she liked best — the halter off, the lead put away, no more pretending. Just them. She got to be herself, and somewhere along the years they had quietly accepted that she wore the trousers in this house.
“You working late tomorrow?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t. I’ll pick up dinner on the way home.”
Willow started to answer, but a low growl came from the kitchen.
“Willow? You’ll get something nice, healthy, and vegetarian. I’m not explaining to Steve why you gained five pounds since your last checkup.”
With a sulky huff, Willow dropped her head onto the cushion. “Sarah’s coming over tonight for movie night, by the way. She’s bringing wine and those spicy chips I like.”
Rowan glanced over his shoulder at her, amused. “You two going to gang up on me again?”
“Probably.” Willow’s tail gave a lazy swish. “It’s tradition.”
* * *
Chapter Three
Sarah showed up a little after seven with two bottles of wine and a big bag of snacks.
“Evening, troublemakers,” she called as she let herself in.
Willow lifted her head from the couch. “You’re late. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Sarah said. She dropped the bag on the coffee table and gave Willow a quick scratch along her shoulder before heading into the kitchen.
Rowan was already pulling plates out. The three of them put together a simple dinner — pasta, garlic bread, salad. Willow ate hers on the floor beside the table like usual, happily working through her portion while the other two sat and talked. Work stuff, dumb customer stories, the usual.
Sarah kept sneaking pieces of garlic bread down to Willow when she thought Rowan wasn’t looking.
The first piece disappeared without comment. The second one got caught.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“What?” Sarah said innocently, already reaching for another piece. “She’s been good all day. She deserves a treat.”
“She had a treat at the bakery,” Rowan said dryly. “And half my bread at lunch. She’s going to get fat and blame me.”
Willow lifted her head, ears perked. “I am right here, you know. And I’m not getting fat. I’m storing snacks for winter.”
“It’s July,” Rowan pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter. Winter is coming. Sarah understands.”
Sarah grinned and slipped her another piece anyway. “Exactly. Cervid metabolism is a mysterious thing. Science.”
Rowan just shook his head, but he was smiling. “You two are going to spoil her rotten.”
“Already is,” Willow muttered happily around the bread.
After dinner they moved to the couch for movies. Willow started in the middle but didn’t stay there long. By the end of the first film she was spreading out. By the middle of the second she had claimed everything.
She lay stretched across both of them — chest and forelegs draped over Sarah’s lap with her head on the armrest, hindquarters and belly settled heavy across Rowan’s thighs, hind legs extended along the other armrest. Her tail hung over the edge of the couch, giving the occasional contented flick.
Sarah looked down at the arrangement and laughed under her breath.
“How the hell is this comfortable for you? You’re basically a living blanket.”
Willow didn’t bother opening her eyes. “It works.”
Rowan shrugged, one paw resting on Willow’s back. “Second movie.”
Sarah shook her head, amused, and went back to the film while idly stroking Willow’s neck. Willow’s hind hoof twitched once as Sarah found a particularly good spot. Sarah blinked and looked over at Rowan.
“Rowan… did she just kick her leg?”
Rowan chuckled, his paw still resting lightly against Willow’s flank. “She’ll totally deny it ever happened, trust me.”
Willow was sound asleep by the end of the second movie.
Rowan waited until the credits finished before he carefully shifted. He supported her hind legs and gently repositioned them so she wouldn’t wake up stiff. Willow grumbled once in her sleep but settled again right away.
Sarah watched him do it with a small smile.
“You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?”
Rowan gave a quiet huff of laughter and kept stroking Willow’s side.
* * *
Chapter Four
Sarah took Willow out for a proper girls’ day the next afternoon.
They hit the park first. Willow wore her usual halter and lead, playing the perfect pet while Sarah walked her along the shaded paths. Sarah bought herself a cone and got Willow a small child-sized tub of vanilla ice cream.
“Don’t tell Rowan I gave you this,” Sarah whispered, holding it down for her.
Willow licked happily at the tub, tail wagging. The two of them wandered slowly after that. Sarah talked about work, the latest idiot client, and the terrible date she’d been on last weekend. Willow listened, bumping her head against Sarah’s leg at the good parts and huffing at the bad ones. Easy. Comfortable.
When Sarah finally walked her home and they stepped inside, Rowan was still out. The second the halter came off, Willow shook herself and dropped onto the couch.
“It’s Rowan’s birthday today,” Willow sighed. “He’s impossible to buy for. Every year he tells me not to fuss, but… I want to do something really special this time. He deserves it.”
Sarah flopped down beside her, already grinning. “What if we make you the gift? Like… literally. We tie you up all pretty on the bed. Ribbons, cuffs, the works. He walks in and gets the best birthday present ever.”
Willow’s ears flicked back. Her eyes widened. “Sarah… I… what do you mean?”
Sarah leaned in close, cupping Willow’s muzzle gently, and whispered into her ear.
Willow’s eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open and her tail poofed out. She pulled her head back, staring at her friend in disbelief. “I… no, no! We can’t, not… not that.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Why not?”
Willow huffed and looked away, one ear turning back toward Sarah. She side-eyed her nervously. “You… you’re sure it’ll be…”
Sarah put her hands on her hips, trying to look stern, but her laugh bubbled up anyway.
“Willow.”
“Hm?” Willow blinked, frowning.
“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
Willow hesitated. “…No.”
“Then trust me.” Sarah chuckled and ruffled Willow’s ears.
Willow snorted, flicked an ear, then finally giggled like a mischievous fawn and nodded eagerly.
They moved to the bedroom. Sarah was careful and methodical the whole time, showing Willow each piece before she put it on.
“Still good?” she asked as she fitted the padded hobbles around Willow’s foreleg ankles.
Willow nodded enthusiastically, already quivering with excitement. “Rowan’s going to love this.”
Sarah laughed and carefully wound a satin ribbon around Willow’s muzzle, leaving plenty of slack so she could breathe easily.
“Okay, how’s that? Still alright?”
“Mmph,” Willow confirmed happily.
Sarah kept going, winding the rest of the decorative ribbons around her barrel and haunches. She double-checked every knot twice, making sure nothing pinched.
“Still happy?”
Another nod. A muffled affirmative sound.
Gleefully, Sarah used the last of the ribbon to bind Willow’s hind legs midway up her shins. By the time she was finished, Willow was completely bound and helpless on the bed. She gently tested each restraint, then gave Sarah a calm, trusting look.
Sarah smiled. “Perfect. You look incredible.”
She stepped back for a moment, admiring her work, then tilted her head.
“Oh… I almost forgot.”
Sarah pulled out the oversized satin bow and held it up with a wicked grin.
Willow’s ears slammed flat. She shook her head hard, eyes wide in a death glare.
“Mpmph! Mmph!!”
Sarah laughed. “Honey, trust me — it’ll be adorable. He’s going to lose his mind over it.”
Before Willow could protest any more, Sarah tied the big bow securely around the base of her tail.
“There. Perfect.” Sarah gave the bow one last fluff and stepped back, clearly pleased. “Rowan should be back in about fifteen minutes. Try not to look too murderous. I’ll let myself out.”
“Mmph!!”
Sarah just grinned, gave Willow one last affectionate pat on the head, and kissed her between the ears.
“Have fun, birthday boy’s gift. Do let me know how it goes… won’t you?”
Sarah walked out, leaving the bedroom door open. Willow heard her footsteps fade, then the front door click shut.
Silence settled over the cottage.
Willow tested one foreleg. Nothing. Another. Still nothing.
Her ears rotated backwards.
She craned her neck just enough to catch sight of the ridiculous red satin bow tied neatly around the root of her tail.
Sarah… you are a dead woman.
* * *
Chapter Five
Rowan pushed the front door open with his shoulder, arms full of groceries.
“Willow, I’m home.”
No answer. No doe sprawled across the couch like usual.
He shrugged, kicked the door shut behind him, and carried the bags into the kitchen. He put the groceries away, listening for the familiar click of hooves on the floor. Still nothing.
“Willow?”
He checked the backyard. Empty. Living room, bathroom, guest room — all quiet. Frowning now, he headed down the hall toward the bedroom.
He stopped in the doorway.
Willow was on their bed.
Thoroughly trussed up in decorative ribbons, padded hobbles on her forelegs, and a wide satin ribbon neatly binding her muzzle. A big red bow sat proudly at the base of her tail. She lifted her head when she saw him. Her big fawn eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed into a slow, sultry glint. Her tail lifted and started swishing with clear intent. Even with the ribbon over her muzzle, the smirk in her expression said everything.
Rowan stood there for a long moment, groceries forgotten.
“…Well,” he said finally, voice low and rough. “Happy birthday to me.”
He crossed the room in a few strides and sat on the edge of the bed. Carefully he untied the satin ribbon around her muzzle. The moment it slipped free, Willow let out a bright, delighted giggle.
“Happy birthday, my dear husband.”
Rowan laughed, low and warm, and leaned in to kiss her between the ears.
“You absolute menace.”
What followed was slow and familiar and full of the kind of heat that came from years of knowing exactly how to drive each other crazy. Ribbons were carefully unwrapped. Hobbles unbuckled. The big red bow stayed on for a while — Rowan seemed particularly fond of that part.
Much later, the bedroom was quiet again.
Rowan lay curled around her, one arm draped over her side, nose tucked against the back of her neck. Willow was pressed back against his chest, warm and loose and satisfied.
She let out a soft, content sigh.
Rowan chuckled softly. “…Best birthday ever.”
Willow smiled without opening her eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
* * *
Chapter Six
Rowan was already in the kitchen the next morning, making breakfast.
He had a big bowl of mixed grains and fresh greens ready for Willow, topped with sliced fruit and a careful little drizzle of ranch dressing — exactly how she liked it. The kettle had just clicked off.
He heard the soft click of hooves in the hallway and glanced over.
Willow appeared in the doorway, walking rather carefully. Her steps were a little stiff, her hind legs moving with obvious caution. She made it to the table and lowered herself onto the cushion he’d already put out for her with a small, slightly pained sigh.
“I just slept funny,” she announced.
Rowan turned around, bowl in hand, and gave her a long, knowing little smile. He said nothing.
He set the salad in front of her, then poured her tea exactly the way she liked it — strong, with a touch of honey. He placed the mug beside her bowl and went back to the stove without a word.
Willow narrowed her eyes at his back.
“…Not a word out of you.”
Rowan’s shoulders shook with silent laughter as he finished his own breakfast.
“I’m serious,” she muttered, ears flicking. “I slept funny. That’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He brought his plate over and sat across from her. The knowing smile was still there, small and fond and entirely too smug.
Willow huffed, took a sip of tea from her bowl, and pointedly ignored the way her tail gave a single, satisfied little flick behind her.
Rowan just kept smiling as he ate.
* * *
Chapter Seven
After breakfast, Rowan herded Willow into the shower with him.
The warm water felt good on her still-slightly-sore muscles. Rowan stood behind her, lathering her back with the cervid-friendly wash they kept on the shelf. His big paws moved slow and careful over her coat.
Willow’s tail gave a little twitch, then another. It started swishing with clear intent.
Rowan noticed immediately. He reached down, gently caught her tail near the base, and acted like he was just being thorough — squeezing a little more bodywash onto the white brush and working it in.
“Easy there,” he murmured, amused. “You’re going to get us both in trouble again.”
Willow huffed, but she leaned back into him anyway, eyes half-closed. The plotting continued in her head all the while.
Sarah. That ridiculous bow right at the root of my tail. Oh, you are going to pay.
She stayed quiet for a long moment, the warm water running over both of them. Her tail kept up that slow, deliberate side-to-side swish.
Rowan glanced down at it as his soapy paws continued working through her coat.
“…Willow? Stop it.”
She pretended not to notice.
“…You’re thinking,” he said.
“No.”
He kept one paw gently around the base of her tail, working the wash through the white hairs while his other hand rinsed her neck and shoulders.
“That’s the plotting tail.”
Willow’s ears flicked. The swish got a fraction slower, more deliberate.
Rowan sighed. “Poor Sarah. She has no idea, does she?”
Willow’s tail gave one particularly satisfied flick.
Rowan let out an exasperated huff of laughter and went back to rinsing her coat.
* * *
Chapter Eight
That afternoon they went to the park for a picnic. Willow wore her public mask once again.
She walked beside Rowan on her lead and halter like the perfect, well-behaved doe everyone expected. They found a shady spot under a big oak. Sarah was already there with a blanket spread out and a basket of snacks.
The three of them settled in. To anyone watching, it was just a man, his human friend, and his beautiful pet whitetail enjoying a lazy afternoon.
Sarah reached over and lightly scratched Willow’s shoulder.
Willow gave her the strongest death stare yet.
Sarah didn’t even flinch. She leaned in close while pretending to adjust the blanket and whispered with a knowing little lilt, “So… enjoy your present?”
Willow’s ears snapped flat against her head.
When Sarah’s hand drifted down to stroke her flank, Willow gave an involuntary little twitch. Sarah’s grin widened.
Rowan, who was unpacking sandwiches, just chuckled quietly and reached over to ruffle Willow’s ears.
“Be nice,” he murmured, voice warm with amusement.
Willow huffed and looked pointedly away from both of them, tail giving one sharp, irritated flick.
Sarah remained completely unrepentant, still smiling as she offered Willow a slice of apple.
* * *
Chapter Nine
The next week and a half settled into a warm, comfortable rhythm.
Every couple of days they stopped at the bakery. The mule deer behind the counter always slipped Willow a tiny biscuit with a wink. Rowan, without fail, would say “No” the moment Willow started eyeing the cinnamon scrolls.
“You’ve had enough,” he’d tell her firmly.
Willow would give him her best wounded look. It never worked.
At home she spent a lot of time on the couch, eyes half-closed, internally drafting increasingly absurd revenge plans against Sarah.
Maybe I’ll fill her car with hay… No, too obvious. Maybe I’ll replace all her snacks with carrot sticks…
Her tail would start that slow, plotting swish.
Rowan noticed every single time.
Whenever Sarah came over, the pattern repeated. Willow’s ears would rotate. Her tail would begin its deliberate side-to-side motion. Sarah would either pretend not to notice or fail completely at hiding her grin.
One evening Sarah reached over to scratch Willow’s shoulder and Willow gave her a flat, murderous stare.
“Aw, still mad about the bow?” Sarah asked sweetly.
Willow’s tail swished harder.
“Honey, it was adorable!” Sarah grinned. “Tell her, Rowan. You loved it, didn’t you? Want me to show her the picture you took? You looked so sweet with that bow on your tail. And honestly, what was with the drooling?”
Rowan hid a cough behind one paw, though the corners of his muzzle were twitching. He glanced at Sarah, who just grinned like a Cheshire cat and scratched Willow behind the right ear.
Willow’s leg twitched. She gave a sharp snort and snapped her head back to glare at Rowan.
“What? That bow was damn cute…” he muttered, then high-fived Sarah with a loud slap.
With another snort, Willow sighed and closed her eyes.
The days passed easily — park walks, quiet evenings, movie nights where Willow inevitably ended up sprawled across both of them again. The comfort was real. The routine felt safe and warm.
And all the while, Willow kept plotting.
Her tail never lied.
* * *
Chapter Ten
Sarah invited Willow over for a “girls only” evening a few days later.
“Wine, snacks, terrible romantic comedies. The usual,” she’d said.
Willow arrived ready. Revenge for the bow had been simmering for days. Tonight was the night.
They settled in like always. Snacks on the table, merlot open. Willow drank from her bowl and was only mildly buzzed — warm and comfortable. Sarah scratched that perfect spot behind her ears. Willow sprawled across the couch, half on Sarah’s lap. They laughed at the awful movie and traded easy stories, the way they had for eight years.
Halfway through the second film, Sarah reached for the remote. The TV clicked off.
The silence felt different.
Sarah was quiet for a long moment, looking thoughtful. Almost nervous. Willow had rarely seen that side of her.
Sarah shifted closer. She gently cupped Willow’s cheeks in both hands, the way she had done countless times before. Willow smiled automatically, expecting their usual quick affectionate kiss.
Sarah leaned in.
The kiss started soft… and didn’t stop. It lingered. Deepened.
Willow forgot how to breathe.
…Wait… Sarah…?
Sarah finally pulled back. She didn’t look smug or seductive. She looked quietly vulnerable.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” she said softly.
Willow stared at her, ears slowly tilting. Eight years of shared laughter, movie nights, and easy affection suddenly looked… different. Not false. Not deceptive. Simply… different.
Sarah waited. No pressure. No coaxing. Just patient, hopeful silence.
Willow looked at her for a long moment. Then she closed the distance herself and kissed Sarah back.
Willow smiled — a little uncertain, but no longer afraid.
Together they walked quietly toward the bedroom.
The night that followed was tender and unhurried. Soft sounds, quiet laughter, and the kind of closeness that had quietly waited for years. Everything happened because they both wanted it to.
* * *
Chapter Eleven
Early the next morning, Sarah drove Willow home. She helped her out of the back of the SUV, quietly shut the door, and walked her right to the front door like always. The lead dragged loosely between Willow’s forelegs. At the doorway Sarah crouched down and gave her one gentle, affectionate kiss between the ears. Nothing in her expression or voice suggested anything out of the ordinary.
“See you soon,” Sarah said with a warm smile, and left.
Willow stepped inside. The moment Rowan unbuckled the halter she walked straight to the couch and curled up tightly, legs tucked under her. She barely moved. Her ears gave the occasional distracted flick. Her eyes were distant, staring at nothing.
Rowan didn’t ask questions. He simply went to the kitchen and made tea.
He brought her mug over, set it on the low table, and sat beside her on the couch. He rested one big paw on her back, warm and steady.
Willow twitched, just once.
Eventually her voice came out small and bleary.
“…Sarah.”
Rowan waited, rubbing slow circles between her shoulders.
“…Yes?”
Willow was quiet for a long time. Her ears flicked again.
“…Not straight.”
Rowan’s ears twitched once. A small smile touched the corner of his muzzle.
“I wondered when you’d work that out, my dear.”
He pressed a kiss between her ears and held her there, warm and solid and safe.
- FIN -