The Happy Christmas | bondage story

It's a big house, as you know. The room we call the Chapel is particularly large; in its early days it was of course the family chapel and that is why it has a high peaked roof. It's not been consecrated for many years and it was there that Master erected his Christmas tree. He never did things by halves; that tree was around twenty feet high.

I first came to know this house and its master when my boyfriend Jon earmarked it as a suitable place to provide our Christmas fare. He liked to think of himself as Bill Sykes and me as his Oliver because I'm so small. Ever a man for original thinking, his idea was to put me in through a small window which he felt he could force and then I was to let him in through either the front door or one of the other windows which, hopefully, I could open from the inside.

It was of course a downright dishonest thing to do although, in my then innocent state, I did not realise it to be so. Jon was my idol and I was willing to do whatever he wished. Life had always been difficult for me but I had, up till then, not actually stolen and so perhaps I was indeed innocent rather than dishonest.

Dressed in jeans, black T-shirt, homemade black ski mask into which my beautiful hair was tucked and with it all topped by a disreputable cap, I made my way stealthily in what I thought was the direction of the front door. Had Jon known anything of the art of burglary, he might perhaps have tried first to discover whether the house was occupied, likely to be occupied or fitted with burglar alarms.

When I woke up, I was lying on my tummy with my hands immovably held behind my back and with considerable pain in my wrists and shoulders. My feet seemed to be doubled up behind me and refused to straighten out. In short, I was in a painfully tight hogtie, the distress of which was not at all alleviated by a raging and thumping headache. The house seemed to be even darker than it had appeared when I first dropped down from that window. As I accommodated the headache and the pains in my wrists and shoulders, I became aware also of a further strange feeling in my jaw, which was aggravated by a distinctly rubbery taste on my tongue.

I didn't hear any footsteps (Master was very light on his feet) but shortly after my awakening, I felt fingers doing something under my chin and then suddenly it became light. A black bag-thing had been pulled from my head. Ahead of me was a door which looked exactly like the one I had opened to gain access to what I'd thought must be the central hall. But I had no memory of actually passing through that door.

"Now let's see what we have here." The voice was soft but it had a vibrancy that made it seem to be loud. It was a voice used to giving commands, a voice that demanded obedience. It was a voice that made me curl up inside; not exactly fear but it did make me fear wetting myself. I wanted to turn and look at the speaker but my head was held back; my hogtie combined with the aches and pains kept me still.

"You may find it comforting to know that your accomplice - or accomplices - took off and left you to face the consequences alone."

I was rolled on to my side and a wicked little knife appeared at my throat. My stomach churned madly at the thought of my throat being cut. No need to be coy about it; as you must have guessed it was Master. He cut away the improvised ski mask and my hair cascaded out. That I was a girl seemed to increase his rage. He deeply resented the intrusion into his house but his especial disgust at finding his burglar to be feminine puzzled me greatly at the time.

He left the room. I have no idea as to how long I lay there completely helpless in his pitiless bondage but when he finally returned my body was a raging agony. As he knelt beside me, I felt that he had recovered control. First he released whatever it was that held my head back and gently lowered it to the floor. Next in quick succession, he eased the tightness of my hogtie and removed the rubber ball that was strapped in my mouth. Then he held a glass of water to my lips.

"I must apologise, at least in part," said that distinctive voice; "I would not have bound you so tightly had I realised you were but a slip of a girl. But I fear that I do resent..." He left the sentence unfinished as he finally removed the hogtie altogether, lifted me and placed me on a leather-covered sofa. My hands remained firmly bound together however and my ankles also.

That is how my first Christmas with Master began. In short he gave me an ultimatum; I could agree to become his slave for two years or be handed over to the police. I had heard stories of what could happen to people in prison but it was difficult to agree to the alternative, which he presented. He made it very clear exactly what he would expect of me, what he would do with me and the sort of slave I would become. It frightened me but... it also excited me in some way that I could not define.

I elected for slavery, signed his form of agreement and spent the next two months or so wishing that I had chosen prison. His very first ever instruction was to strip.

"What?"

"You do not question. Yours is to obey... at once."

I stared my defiance. "You have signed an agreement. You are my absolute slave for the next two years. I own you body and soul. Obey… or I shall be forced to punish you."

I said something like "Go to hell," and turned toward the door. For someone with my diminutive stature against his great strength, it was a foolish act. I found myself once again on the floor; my wrists were pulled back, my T-shirt and bra came off and a pair of handcuffs went on. Next my ankles were seized, the rest of my clothes - every stitch - came off and my ankles were confined in another pair of steel handcuffs.

I was humiliated and mad as hell. I had been made naked by a stranger. I lashed him with my only free member and he quickly took care of that by replacing the ball-gag and, my oh my, did he pull the strap tight.

"You must learn, slave, that not only do you obey at once but you will neither answer back nor question, you will not speak unless given permission and you NEVER... no, not even hardly-ever... use bad language either in or out of my presence. Have I made myself clear?"

I could not answer him but I made my feelings very clear. He added the hood back to my ensemble, picked me off the floor, threw me over his shoulder as though I were no more than a towel and took me for my first meeting with his dungeon. I was to learn a very severe lesson indeed; Master seldom raised his voice but it was most unwise to make him angry. And I had made him angry - very angry.

In the dungeon, he fitted my wrists with some very wide and well-padded leather cuffs, which he locked on with small padlocks. With the steel cuffs removed, he attached these to each other in front and to the end of a chain with another padlock and then hoisted me until only my toes made contact with the floor. In that position I suffered my first whipping. In that position, I remained for what seemed at the time to be forever.

He did not suspend me in that way for the whole of my punishment... indeed he would never do anything that could result in permanent injury... but I found myself hanging by my heels for longer than I care to remember. I was chained to the wall and then spread-eagle on the floor. I was fed water at intervals and, less often, on bread only. I held out for several days - I think - but, of course, in the end he broke me.

When he removed the gag, I begged for an end; I would have promised anything. Then I discovered another side of Master. Tenderly he took me from the dungeon, bathed me in a glorious hot bath, pampered me and put me to bed in a real bed except that my hands were cuffed to the headboard. He nursed my bruises and welts as though he were truly sorry for the punishment he had handed out but never again did I defy him either with attitude or word. If nothing else, I had learned respect for his skill with a whip.

And let it be said that I eventually concluded that he was more sorry than I that I had caused him to lose his temper with one whom he controlled so completely. Never again did he beat me. But then I never again gave him cause!

So it was that my first ever Christmas in this house, my first Christmas with Master, was spent hanging in chains in his dungeon. There is something, you know, about chains... they are so positive in their statement... that in the end you come to acknowledge defeat. No matter how strong your spirit... however you may hold out... you know that in the end...?

And in that matter I know all too well what I am talking about. For the next six months of my training, I was never left unfettered. My feet were hobbled with a chain barely ten inches long. My hands were always cuffed behind or in front or, when I was performing my slave duties, they were hobbled like my ankles with a heavy length of chain. The slave collar around my neck was attached always to a ten-foot heavy chain. For those six months, I was always tormented by clanking steel restraints that dragged like an anchor.

Then came that wonderful day when I returned to his study after finishing my kitchen chores. Instead of ordering me to my usual corner, he called me to him.

"Well pretty one," he began; there was something about him that told me he was pleased... I hoped it was with something I had done. "It would seem of late that you have been behaving very well. You have been obedient; you have done your work well. In fact I have been hard put to find a reason to punish you."

My heart fell; perhaps my face did also because suddenly I realised he was smiling. He reached forward and pulled me on to his knee as though I were a child. "I've decided to give you a reward. What exactly would you like it to be?"

By then my training had become a matter of habit and I hesitated to put myself forward. "Come child. You may speak."

"May I say anything I wish, Master?"

"Anything."

"Then... I wish you wouldn't call me a child. I'm a grown woman."

"Ah - ha. But you have never told me your age? You're as tiny as any elf. Why should I not regard you as a child?"

"I am close on eighteen."

"And that makes you a woman? Well, well, well. It would seem I have a woman in slavery. But..."

I was not wanting to offend him and interrupted without thinking: "I don't really mind you calling me child." I stopped, appalled.

"Then if I stopped calling you child, it would not be any sort of present. Come, there must be something you would like?"

I had so little to lose. I slowly stretched my hands apart and shook the chain. "I... I... the thing I would like most... "

"Ah, my pretty one. You do not like being chained?" He sounded so stern.

" 'Tis no matter... really... "

"But it is what I had in mind anyway." He reached into a pocket and handed me a small bunch of keys. "You may remove them."

It was truly hard to believe... yet that naughtiness rose within me so that I risked all. "If I take them off... Master, I cannot appear naked in front of you."

For just that moment, I feared the worst. Then he threw back his head and laughed so heartily that I all but fell from his lap.

That was a turning point in my new life. I came slowly to realise that Master was genuinely fond of me but it was some time before I came to realise that I was more than fond of him. No longer were chains necessary to prevent my escape; such was my growing love that he would need chains to drag me from that place.

And so we came to my second Christmas in his house. It was the day before Christmas Eve; I had long been performing my duties without any form of restraint except for the collar which I still wore but which no longer dragged that chain behind it. But I was troubled. We were starting on my second year as his slave and I did not want to leave. Would he agree to keep me as his slave? I knew that I wanted it so.

To my delight, he announced that he needed my help in dressing the Christmas tree. In the chapel, I was introduced to what he called a "bosun's chair". It was but a thin piece of wood supported by a short length of chain attached between its two ends. This in turn was attached to a winch wire, which ascended into the peak of that lofty roof. As I sat on the wood inside the chain loop he tied me securely to both the seat and the chain strop. As the electric winch drew me up the tree I was at first terrified by the height. Decorating took us the best part of two hours by which time I had grown used to the sensation. The last job was taking up several strings of lights.

Back on the ground, I watched as Master connected them all up and plugged them in. "Now," he said, "after all your work, it shall be your duty to switch them on. Wait 'till I get to the other end and then when I call, press the switch." After my year as a nobody, it was a tremendous thrill to press that switch and see the tree burst into life. He called me to see the effect from the other end of the room and gathered me into his arms for an enthusiastic hug. He behaved like a child himself.

It was a pity, I thought, that the top of the tree looked so bare; it needed the traditional fairy to complete the effect but... he was a man and not likely to think of such things. I dared not offer criticism and so held my tongue. He took me by the hand, led me into the study, sat on the sofa, picked up the remote control for the television set and then to my utter amazement, patted the cushion beside him. "Come," he said, "it's Christmas."

Gingerly I sat on the very edge, half expecting to be ejected on to the floor. Instead an arm snaked out and drew me up against him. I swept my feet up under me and snuggled into his side. It was an evening of absolute bliss; I haven't the faintest idea of the programme he watched - I saw none of it.

But truly it was to be a Christmas to be remembered. Come bedtime, he did not re-shackle me and for the first time in twelve months, I slept in freedom except for the collar locked around my neck. And that I was pleased to keep.

The next afternoon, Christmas Eve, I had finished cleaning the dishes and tidied the kitchen when I heard him calling. Fearful that I had offended, I hurried to the study to find him holding a pair of handcuffs and the blindfold; it had been too good to last. Almost tearfully I held out my hands and then waited while he fitted the blindfold and then he took my hand and led me away. I was too miserable to pay attention to our destination.

He attached something to the cuffs and hoisted my arms. I guessed we must be in the dungeon. But then it seemed he started to dress me! First came some sort of a bra; it felt strange anyway after a year of nakedness but there was something about that garment that I could not fathom. Then came what could only be a wrap-around skirt; it was of flimsy material and went around me fully twice. He brushed out my hair, which now descended fully to the top of my legs and which gave him a deal of pleasure in grooming it, then fitted something to my head and pinned it in place.

Then he put something against my back and began to strap me to it. By the time he had finished I could hardly move; there were straps around my ankles, knees, thighs, waist, under my arms and around my arms and wrists. He left me standing there helplessly for a few moments and then I felt myself lifted from the ground. The lifting stopped and he removed the blindfold - we were in the chapel. "Happy Christmas, my pretty one," he said. "Guess where you are going to greet the great day." He pressed the button on the remote control and the winch whisked me up into the air.

How wrong could I get? I was to be the fairy on his tree!

A minute after I arrived at the top of that great tree, he joined me riding the bosun's chair. With infinite care, he made me secure, taped a wand to my raised right arm, set a ring of coloured lights around my head and fiddled for some time beneath that enveloping skirt. Then he descended again and seconds later the lights came on. Looking down from the height that I no longer feared so much, I could hardly see the ground beneath through the glow of the fairy lights and then some of them began to wink. It didn't take long to realise that many of the winkers were under my skirt! At that time I could only guess at the exhibition I was putting on but later I will show you the videotape that he made of the scene.

I don't know exactly how long he kept me up there waving my wand over the empty chapel. I would not have been surprised had he thrown a party to show off his creation but he kept it entirely between us two. After a while it got somewhat boring but I would not have complained for the world. I was happy beyond belief to be the source of so much pleasure for Master, to be free of those wretched chains, to be wearing clothes no matter how bizarre they may be. To experience a new Master who was so less strict, who was positively forthcoming, so full of fun... and kindness. It was true of course that I was back in bondage but this was quite different... or so it seemed to me. I wanted that this Christmas should never end and complaints were never so far from my thoughts.

Eventually he switched out the lights, came up in his bosun's chair, released me and lowered me back to terra firma. I was standing waiting for his instructions when an arm came around my shoulders. "Twirl," he commanded, "let's see my little fairy at close quarters." Hardly had I obeyed than he swept me off my feet and carried me back to the study where he dumped me boisterously on the sofa. Then... from somewhere he picked up my collar ready attached to the chain and locked it back around my neck. "That'll stop you flying away," he said and was gone.

Can you guess at the rising confusion in my mind? These mood swings; first he released me from all restraints and now I was again captive. After a whole year he had suddenly dressed me but now, looking down at myself, I could hardly claim to be decent in that dress. I had just noticed that the clock stood at three minutes to midnight when he returned with a tray on which he had placed two glasses and the sherry decanter. He filled the glasses generously and handed one to me.

"We shall drink to this Christmas," he said happily. "But... it might be a good idea if you don't down it all in one go. Huh?" He raised his glass to me. "A Merry and Happy Christmas to my little elf-like slave who brings such joy into this house."

So that Christmas dawned for me sitting indecently dressed on master's sofa, a glass of sherry in my hand, chained by the neck and utter confusion in my mind. But it hadn't finished. We watched the celebrations on television for half an hour, then he declared it was time for bed; we had much to do the following day. Indeed, because of his Christmas Eve festivities, I had yet to make the final preparations for the Christmas dinner.

He unlocked my collar and fazed me yet again by carrying me up to his bedroom where he clearly enjoyed himself undressing me and then put me to bed in his great bed. I didn't try to understand; I didn't ask any questions. I was content to bask in the luxury of his bed and cuddle into the warmth of his strong body. I felt his hand exploring but he was so gentle that... dare I admit it... I fell asleep. After all... it had been a long day.

The next morning, Christmas Day, I awoke gently only to come bolt upright when I looked at the bedside clock - 9.45! I should have been at my duties long since. And there was the Christmas Day dinner. Next I discovered that I could do little about it... my hand was cuffed to the corner bedpost. There was no sign of Master and all I could do was lie there. Oh well; whatever came of it, at least I could enjoy this wonderful moment.

When he next woke me it was well after 11.30. "Out of there lazybones," he ordered. "We need a bath."

"But Master... I must see to the turkey and all the..."

"Are you arguing with me, slave?" His voice, like his mien, was stern. He rolled me over on to my stomach and cuffed my hands behind. He took me over his shoulder to the bathroom and there dropped me into the ready prepared bath. He left me there for several minutes and then joined me: "Suppose I've got to see that you don't drown," he grumbled. I had begun to wonder whether he was perhaps ill? Surely Master, of all people, couldn't be going off his rocker, losing his marbles? Sitting almost up to my neck in bubbly water with my hands locked behind my back, there was little I could do about it anyway.

He proceeded to bath me with what I can only describe as tender and loving care even if he did fail to leave any part of my anatomy unexplored. But yet again I could not complain; indeed I was enjoying his attentions much more than I knew I should. After a good half-hour, he switched to washing himself then started the plug. With a container of warm water he set himself to rinse the soap out of my hair, swirled it vigorously into a rope and seemed oblivious to the fact that I was gasping and choking and spitting water out of my mouth and blowing it out of my nose.

"I suppose," he said resignedly, "if I want you to stop fighting, I shall have to take those off?" From somewhere he produced a key and removed my cuffs. I was about to wax indignant at his cavalier treatment when I saw his face. He was putting me on; deliberately trying to make me fire up. I put my hands back behind and said softly: "This day of all days, Master, you shall not have the excuse."

He roared with laughter. "I knew I hadn't broken you," he chortled. "My lovely elf. Today, of all days, I assure you I couldn't beat you if I tried."

He wrapped a huge warm towel around me and lifted me from that tub. He wrapped another around my hair. "Get dried, my fairy poppet. Don't worry about the dinner. All taken care of. This Christmas I look after you. You will dress for me - all laid out in the bedroom."

The cause of this good mood was hard to discern but who was I to dissent? But when at last, wrapped in my towel, I ventured back into his bedroom yet another shock awaited me. I hadn't any expectations at all as to what he had chosen for me to wear; indeed it would not have surprised me had it been no more than a pair of handcuffs. What I found lying across the end of the bed was an exquisite floor-length off-the-shoulder gown in dark-green velvet and all the necessary accessories. A Christmas to remember indeed!

There followed the happiest afternoon and evening that I had ever known and I truly believe that I have never known a happier. Master was attentive to the point where I was afraid he might lay me on the meat server and eat me instead of the turkey. He plied me with wine and I got a little tipsy but he put an end to my drinking. "You are sparkling, pretty one," he said. "Let's not spoil it."

Later he added to it as we sat before the study fire on his sofa. "I have the prettiest slave for which any one could wish. No, she is not pretty - just plain beautiful. A drop of wine has made her eyes sparkle; perhaps that is because it makes her fear my displeasure less? Fear not, my pretty. It's still Christmas, the time of good cheer and good will to all men. And all women. Big ones too if you must... but though my little slave is small... she is all woman."

"Master," I began, "I fear you have taken more wine than you gave to me."

"Ah. Insubordination again. That must be corrected."

He seized me and carried me yet again into his bedroom. There he ordered me to stand absolutely still and slowly, very slowly, he undressed me. Then naked, he popped me into his bed again. That night alone would have been a fitting end to a great Christmas but... it was not to be the end.

Boxing Day, I awoke to find myself again alone in the great bed and once more shackled to it. Soon he appeared bearing a large tray with breakfast and a large parcel, which he deposited next to the dressing table. He unlocked the cuffs and we shared the breakfast. After he had cleared it away and dumped it outside the door, he came back to me bearing the parcel.

"I have two more gifts for you this Christmas," he said and I was struck by the sudden seriousness of his manner. "You are not obliged to accept either but you may keep whatever you wish."

He sat down on the bed again beside me. "Has this been a happy Christmas for you, poppet?"

"Master. How can you ask such a thing? But I must say that I have found it confusing."

He took something from his pocket but kept it hidden from me in his hand. "I am hoping that you will make it the happiest Christmas ever for me. There is no reason why you should not continue as my slave if such were your wish but... I would like also to... make you my wife." He opened his hand to disclose this beautiful ring.

I was speechless but that was because I was unable to breathe. If Master truly loved me and was seriously asking me to marry him, it would explain the odd happenings of the last few days. But such a transition... from a slave Master who would wield a whip... to a courtier seeking my hand in marriage? But, under the terms of our agreement, I had no choices. He could simply demand that I marry him. But why should he? I was his to do with as he decreed. No need to tie himself to an orphan slave girl who was totally dependent on him.

"Master. Is not the choice yours? I have no rights here until next Christmas."

"Oh poppet. Slavery is as much a game as it is anything else. True... it is less than a game when I take a whip to you... but cannot you see that marriage is a contract for life. I can't impose it on you even if I wished to do so. These last two nights I took you into my bed because I felt that you would not object. I'm not all stern disciplinarian, you know. But if you spend any more nights with me it must be because you willingly come as my wife."

I remained silent and he continued in a very quiet voice: "Let me tell you that I do truly love you. I have long admired your spirit and above all your courage. I kept you in restraints long after I wished you free of them because... well, frankly I wanted to see you give in to me. I could have beaten it out of you and broken you but that... I could never do once you became precious to me. Even when you knelt humbly and submissively before me I could see the fire still in your eyes. I love you for that alone. But I love every part of you. This has been a happy Christmas for me because I decided to end it. Can you join me in that ending?"

I couldn't keep the smile from my lips any more than I could resist the temptation. Deliberately I put my hands back behind me, turned my face up to him and said, with all the impudence I could muster: "Kiss me, damn you. Why do you waste so much time."

Ah! The punishment I had to suffer for that outrage. It was fully five minutes before he allowed me to come up for air.

The other parcel. It was the most magnificent wedding gown that you ever saw. And all the required ancillaries. And I got to wear it that very afternoon.

Doctor Saunders came for me and led me to the church after he had produced the key and removed my slave collar. He it was who gave me away. Master's other bondage club colleague, his Solicitor Mr. Bedell, was his best man. After the ceremony, Master carried me back over the threshold of this house and we had the merriest wedding breakfast ever with a butler and waitress doing the honours from a local catering service.

When they had all departed Master brought me back in here, this very room, his Study. From that cupboard over there he produced the most beautiful little slave collar which he locked around my neck and then lowered my wedding veil again. "With that down you look so ethereal," he said. "Like that... you are truly my Christmas Fairy."

Does that answer your question? Yes, it is this one. It has never been taken off since that day. He never lived to release me from my service as his slave; we buried him on mid-summer day. Throughout that wonderful six months, he never gave me the slightest hint or sign of his suffering. Doctor Saunders told me at the hospital when he lay dying. He had intended to ask me to be his wife when my two years was up, but he brought it forward when he learned he had but a short time left. He wanted to leave me as his legal heir else I would be destitute.

And that, my dear, is the story behind this little collar of mine. And perhaps it tells you why I will never sell this house no matter that it is too big for me. And Christmas... will always be a wonderful time and is always shared with Dr. Saunders and Mr. Bedell. It is a time for rejoicing, yes. But for me, it is always a time for remembering.

END