(Note from the author: This story contains references to forced incest of a minor. If this bothers you, please do not read. There are no graphic descriptions.)
Alicia sat in her favorite chair and looked around. The chair itself, almost a throne, had a ring on each leg, but tonight no leashes were attached to them. She had given her leash away and had yet to buy a new one. The tree, so beautifully decorated, sat in a corner with a few small packages underneath. A few strings with cards hanging from them stretched from hook to hook near the ceiling, supporting thoughts and memories instead of a submissive.
She sighed as she looked at the few packages. This was her first Christmas alone in over ten years. She didn't have a lot of friends, though there were plenty of people she would hang out with. Her mother had sent a small something, maybe a book or some item to put on a shelf, her father had sent his usual nothing. She couldn't blame him. They hadn't spoken since she was 14 and her last words to him could not be repeated in polite company. His last gift to her, though, she remembered, because it had influenced her direction in life and helped make her who she was today. What she could not forgive was how he held her down and ignored her protests while he pushed into her, telling her it was a way to keep her from getting pregnant.
Now she was grown, in her 30s. Almost six feet tall, shapely in general, and muscular in detail. No man was going to hold her down again without a hard battle, and if she got the upper hand, he was going to pay dearly. Walnut colored hair was cut fairly short, with short bangs in front, ears half exposed, and straight hair that hung like a curtain over the back of her neck.
Tonight she wore soft clothes, a large t-shirt and loose fitting cotton workout pants. Again, it had been a long time since she wore soft clothes on Christmas Eve. Usually, she was in leather, enjoying whatever gifts her slave offered her. This year all she had was a very large, handmade card hanging up. Conner had met somebody at a bondage party.
It was her fault, really. She ordered him to help with the service of drinks for the dominants and he somehow ended up helping a slave named Irene. They had time to talk, because she hadn't gagged him, and they got to know each other. On the way home, he called out from his cage in the back of her van asking if he could see her again. She could have said no, but something inside her melted, and she agreed.
She loved Conner more than her previous two slaves. They were simply slaves. Conner was a companion, though never enough of a companion to be in her bed as an equal. She took sex from him, never allowing him to give, and yet his devotion to her was such that anything she took was still given. Conner had been her slave for over three years, but Irene's Mistress was moving because of her job and Conner looked so sad at losing his love that Alicia let him go, after talking with Irene's Mistress to make sure they would be together.
That was just two weeks ago. Conner had done the decorating, insisting he perform that task for her one last time. When he was finished, he went to her and kissed her feet with love. She was moved like never before and bent over, urging him to stand. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled his head into her soft breasts, holding him there for many seconds while stroking his hair and telling him how much he had meant to her. Then he crawled into his cage for the night. The next morning he showered, dressed, and waited for Mistress Ida to pick him up. Alicia insisted he never call her, knowing it would reopen the sense of loss she felt as the door closed behind him.
On a whim, she took a pen and paper from her desk and wrote a quick note.
"Dear Santa,
Please bring me a new slave, as devoted and good as Conner was. And also a new leather harness with a clip for a slave's leash.
Ali / Mistress Varda"
Smiling at the silliness of it, she put the note into an envelope and addressed it to the North Pole. The envelope was dropped on the kitchen counter near her keys, as if she would mail it. Why would she? Tomorrow was already Christmas. There was no way it could reach Santa before he delivered all his goodies. She smiled, thinking of Santa bringing her a leather domme harness.
As she prepared for bed, her thoughts once again went to Conner. It bothered her that she was feeling so sentimental. Slaves are property, after all, not real people. She had rescued him. He was working in a shop and offered to help her. She noticed the look in his eyes that told of a story behind the look. She told him she would be back when he took his break and she wanted to know his story. Her firm voice refused to let him decline and she found out he had been married to a woman who one day walked out holding hands with another man, laughing about his size and manliness. A week after that talk, he was selling everything and moving in with his Mistress.
It was his devotion that made it so easy to grow close to him. She put him into chastity, of course, only letting him out once a month to relieve stress, and he always tried to put on a show that pleased her when he had his moment of freedom. She controlled his finances, clothes, food, everything. He became such a good servant that she would rent him out to clean the homes of friends, always asking many questions later to make sure he had been properly treated.
Oh well, she thought, gone now. He was the closest she had ever known to a true lover, and yet they were never intimate. It had been an amazing ride, but now he had Irene and his Mistress reported that she was amazed at how well he had transitioned. And by how devoted he was to his new Mistress.
Alicia got into bed and checked the clock. It was just past 11, later than she had planned. She gave one more look to the large, empty cage against the wall near the heating vent, then turned off the light and lay back, closing her eyes.
She woke, groggy, as she felt the blankets pulled off of her. "Wake up, you sleepy bitch, you don't want to miss your punishment." The man's voice startled her a bit. She looked at her clock as she sat up and saw it was one in the morning. Who the hell was in her house in the middle of the night?
She slid off the side of the bed. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" she challenged.
"Ho ho ho," came a deep, familiar voice. "Alicia, who else would be in your house on Christmas Eve?" She dimly saw an arm move and adopted a defensive posture, but suddenly the lights came on. "Surely you recognize me now?" The voice was still deep and filled with jolly laughter.
At first the bright light made her squint, but her eyes adjusted and she stood, surprised. Six feet away from her stood a man about her height, very round, in the traditional Santa suit. She tensed to make a move toward him, but he was astonishingly quick. His hand reached into a pocket and pulled out a short piece of a belt. He threw it underhand and there was some sparkling before she felt it on her neck, circling it, and then clicking. She stopped to pull at it and found there was a ring for a lock in the buckle and there was an actual locked lock in that ring. Santa had collared her? That was impossible, there was no Santa.
