Visit from Sir Santa

As she began to relax, Santa pulled out, lowering his hips somehow while bending his back. He was sliding on the wetness of her folds and suddenly he erupted. The first stream shot all the way up to her neck and draped back to between her breasts. The second landed below her shoulder and fell across her nipple. In total, there were five strong and two lesser streams from him as he moaned and grunted. And ... hummed? As he slowly stopped, Alicia started laughing. She realized he had been humming "Here comes Santa Clause" as he shot his cream on her.

She lay on the bed as he stood up, her arms and legs still pulled out by the tinsel, the cum running a little, like a thick frosting, but mostly staying where it landed. He turned around quickly and when he stopped, he was dressed in his red suit again.

"It's time for you to go back to sleep, Alicia. Of course, this is all just a dream." He laughed with a hearty, "Ho ho ho," as his belly jiggled.

She looked around. "Wait, aren't you going to release me first?"

Santa reached into his pocket. "Remember your visit from Sir Santa, my captive girl. Merry Christmas."

Glitter flew into the air and settled downward as she watched. What was in that glitter, she wondered?

Alicia woke up and smiled. She was laying on her back, dressed, under her blankets. She remembered the dream vividly and her smile broadened as she thought of her total release orgasm. Rolling onto her side, she saw the time was eight. And she froze.

Next to the clock was a brown leather strap, the length of a collar, with a metal plate reading "Santa's Slave 2022". She felt her neck and there was nothing there. She did, however, feel the sensation she recognized as dried cum. When she lifted her shirt to look, she saw faded welts. In shock, she leaned over the edge of the bed. On the floor, near the legs on that side, were strands of tinsel that ended attached to short straps of the same leather as the collar. She shook her head and looked again. Nothing had changed.

She walked to the kitchen to get coffee, avoiding the urge to look into the living room. On the countertop was her letter to Santa, opened and unfolded. In ornate handwriting, the words, "Merry Christmas Ali Girl" had been added below her signature. There was something stamped below that.

"Every year one girl who needs something special gets some extra time with me. This year, that girl was you. Enjoy your personal gift." The letters next to it were, of course, SC.

This was very strange, but she was sure there was some kind of explanation. She walked into the living room with her coffee cup and stopped, once again surprised. There was tinsel hanging from one of the ceiling rings, the one she had been on. Below it was a flogger with silver lashes. Nearby was a candy cane shaped like a dildo. On the table next to her favorite chair was the ornament Conner had given her. She almost staggered to her seat and sat down hard.

Looking at the tree brought more surprises. Where last night there had been a small package from her mother, today there was another, much larger package and an envelope.

She sipped her coffee, resisting the urge to hurry over and rip everything open. When the cup was empty, she picked up the package from her mother. It was, indeed, a book. Alicia tipped her head as she read the title, "Help for People Living With Emotional Pain." She had never talked about what her father had done, so why would her mother get this book?

The larger package was next. When she opened it, she ran to the kitchen to get her Christmas letter. The contents of the box was a black leather corset-style teddy, with buckles and snaps to secure or remove coverings for the breasts and crotch. She had asked for a harness, but this was convertible. She could wear the teddy, or turn it into a sort of harness by removing sections. It was amazing. And it was exactly her size.

The envelope was last. Inside was a Christmas card, and inside that was an index card with a name and a phone number. The name was Ian. She set it aside and got another cup of coffee.

Back in her chair, she mentally reviewed. She had been awake for over an hour now, and she still felt the crusty sensation of dried cum on her chest and neck. Lifting her shirt and standing in front of the mirror, she saw faint lines that had likely once been welts. She had submitted once before, and only once. The woman had whipped her, so she knew what such marks looked like on her. The surprise gift had not been there the night before, but it was even better than what she had written on her note. Then there was the collar, the cuffs attached to the legs of the bed, and the tinsel in the ceiling rings. It couldn't have been real, but she had no other explanation.

After lunch, she called the number on the card. The phone was picked up after she heard two rings. "Ian"? was all she said.

A rather timid male voice responded. "Is this Mistress Varda?"

Why would he ask for her by name? "Yes, Ian, it is. How do you know my name?"

"I, I had an envelope under my tree this morning. Last night there was nothing, tonight the envelope. And a collar. I feel very foolish, Miss, because I don't know you, but I don't know how I got the envelope."

She thought a moment, then decided to press on. "Ok, Ian, strip, take a picture of yourself in a mirror, nothing covered, and send it to me. You have my number, right?"

Five minutes later she was looking at a picture of a younger man with a smallish cock and a few extra rolls at his belly. She called him again.

"Ok, Ian, do you know the coffee shop on Oak and 7th? Good, meet me there tomorrow at six in the evening." She ended the call.

It was after dinner that she got another call, from a number she didn't know. The caller ID only showed "Minnesota" and she had no idea what to do that with. For some reason, she answered.

"Ali?" it was a male voice, and she seemed to recognize it, but she wasn't going to risk too much.

"Few people call me that. I prefer Alicia." She was going to make this complicated. She had already seen and heard too much today. And that voice had made her tighten her stomach.

He cleared his throat. "Of course, Alicia. I needed to call you, Alicia. I want to apologize, to tell you how very sorry I am for what I did. It was wrong, very unfair to you, and I just want to ask your forgiveness. I don't deserve it, but it would mean so much to me. It has haunted me for the past five years."

Alicia held the phone away from her face. "Dad?"

Again he cleared his throat. "Alicia, I was so bad to you. I want," his voice was starting to break, "I want to apologize. I have to say it. I need to hear my voice say it. Please, accept it. Even if you can't forgive me, please say you heard me ask for it."

She was stunned. "I, I hear you. This is so weird. I had a dream last night, at least, I think it was a dream. Is this your number? I need to let this settle in. I'll call you back tomorrow." She paused a moment. "And thank you for saying it."

The next day she was sitting in the coffee shop, sipping a latte. Promptly at six she saw the man from the photo walk in. He came right over and asked for permission to sit. She told him to get two drinks, another latte for her and whatever he wanted, he was to pay for it, then he could return and sit down across from her.

Was it him, her, or just the black leather skirt with knee-high boots and tight black top? Whatever the reason, he did exactly as he was told. She asked the questions, he simply responded. He appeared honest enough.

Ian told her he had been married for four years, but his wife met a guy she said was more adventurous and then one day he got home from work and all her things were gone. Two days later he was served divorce papers. He thought nothing worse could happen before Christmas, but then his company reduced staff and he got released. He insisted he wasn't desperate, but he wanted something different, and he didn't know where to start. There was nothing under his tree, except the envelope. He was an only child and his parents had moved to Florida to prepare for retirement. They were comfortably wealthy and he was a loser to them, so they had cut off contact.

Alicia kept her face stern, but something inside her felt sorry for this guy. At the end of their meeting, she offered him a three-day trial at home, making sure he understood he would be naked most of the time and his home inside the home would be a cage. He told her he had never done that, but was willing to learn.

At eight she called her father back and spent a half hour ripping into him for everything he had done to her. She cried some, he was silent or spoke softly, and when she asked why he couldn't have just been a dad to her, he was silent for a moment.

"Ali, you asked, so here's what I can tell you. It's not an excuse, just a reason. My therapist has told me to keep it as simple as possible."

He told her about the strained relationship between him and her mother, about his feelings of self worth, and how Alicia was becoming a very attractive woman, and not likely to fight back very hard. It made him feel in control, powerful, and like a man. He finished that part by saying he left because her mother found out and told him to leave or she would call the police.

That was a shock to Alicia. Her mother knew? And all she did was tell the bastard to get out?

Her father continued, telling how it was about five years ago, Christmas morning he had an envelope under his tree. Nothing else. Nobody knew him or cared enough to give a gift. The envelope held a card that told him it was time to face his past and get himself fixed. He had tried to ignore the growing feelings of guilt, but this card, simply signed "S", made that impossible.

He got a therapist and poured everything out to him. He was on medication for two years, then just therapy. This year, on Christmas morning, there was another card with the instruction "Call her". It took all day to get the courage, but he finally did.

His healing required him to talk to her. He went on to say he didn't blame her if she wouldn't forgive him. He had been terrible, forcing her to do something and threatening her if she didn't. There was one more shocker coming. He told her that if she wanted it, he would even go to the police and confess, but he wanted to have a chance to apologize to her first, and now he had done that.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," she told him, "but I think somebody believes I should. Call me next Saturday and we'll talk some more, maybe about things more current." What the hell was she doing? She had hated that man for almost 20 years, and now she wanted to chat?

Two days later, she got an email from Mistress Ida telling her Irene was pregnant, it was definitely Conner's baby, and the sonogram showed a girl. They were going to name her Alicia as a memorial to the owner who let a slave go out of love.

Ian proved to be an excellent slave. He told her that he had been researching it, but would likely still make some mistakes. She told him she liked slaves who made mistakes, because then she could discipline them.

Alicia refused to meet her father, but gradually the anger passed and they spoke once a month by phone. Both of them found healing though the talking, and he was quick to apologize for anything he said wrong. She really wanted him in her dungeon, but knew that was not a good idea.

Ian sold everything he had and moved into her cage. In June, she met Nolan through work and found out quickly that he had an assertive personality, creating some tension. With some effort, they learned they could work together. He knew about bondage and discipline, preferring to be the one putting knots on somebody else, but she got him into her dungeon where SHE did the tying. In October, she let him tie her up, and she found he was a good student.

Christmas Eve, she sat in her chair. Ian was curled up on the floor, leashed to the ring on one of the chair legs. Alicia looked at the rumpled blanket on the thick rug where she had ridden Nolan until he came inside her three times, then she had dragged herself up his body until he could lick her to another orgasm. Ian had knelt nearby, ready with a wrap to put on his mistress if she got cold. Nolan accepted Ian, and that made everything easier.

Now she looked at the paper Ian had brought her and she smiled. Picking up the pen, she wrote:

"Dear Santa,

Thank you.

Ali

By the way, you can come and fuck me any time."

She folded the paper and put it under the tree, this year with gifts from her mother, father, Nolan, and Ian underneath. Walking back to the chair, she grabbed Ian's leash and led him to his cage. As a Christmas gift, she gave him a towel and told him he could jerk off while he watched her change for bed.