An X-mas Tale
by Kenny N Gamera
Copyright© 2005 by Kenny N Gamera
BDSM Sex Story: Kristen is a young submisive college student with a loving, older master. Other slaves are buying their doms trips, jewery, and cars for Christmas; she can barely pay tution. What is a poor sub to do. Warning: this has a punch line.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic DomSub .
Copyright© 2003 Kenny N Gamera
Kristen knelt in complete silence along the wall with several other slaves. She had been nervous coming to the event, the first she had attended with Master. An annual holiday affair, he had told her, just a get together of some old friends and their slaves. She had grown even more nervous after their arrival, finding herself amoung the cream of society.
The Masters and Mistresses freely wandered the room, followed by slaves holding trays of snacks or beverages. The slaves against the wall quietly talked amoung themselves except for those few ordered to complete silence or those wearing some variety of gag. Kristen at first glanced and then stared at the female-slave next to her.
The woman wore a black dress that clung to the glamourous curves of her thin body. A tight choker collar covered in small, cut jewels surrounded her neck. The dim light of the room danced off the stones in a way that Kristen had never seen. The tlght braceletes around her wrists matched and also shone with, in all appearence, their own light.
Kristen looked away and choked on a sigh. She felt but resisted an urge to feel the common, leather, petstore collar she wore around her neck or look down at the cheap black dress she had purchased from a clearance rack at the store where she worked between classes.
Kristen looked instead to the sofa in front of the fire place where Master held a short glass of ice bathed in scotch. He sat talking to an elegant and mature-looking woman in a simple, black evening dress, with a smokey hose and conservative pumps. They looked very natural together, with Master in his freshly pressed tuxedo and shoes she had faithfully polished herself. I don't belong with these people, she thought with her eyes closed. Opening them, she looked back at her Master. What does He see in me, she asked herself. Master looked over to the wall. Seeing her gazing at him, he smiled at Kristen. He patted his thigh softly. She got up and ran over to him, returning to a kneeling position next to him. He reached down and gave her long, dark hair a few gentle strokes.
"So this is your new one?"
The elegent woman smiled at her, causing Kristen to bow her head. The woman reached across Master's lap and took Kristen's chin in her hand. With a very slight pressure, she gently lifted Kristen's face so that their eyes would look into the other's.
Master answered, "Yes. Her name is Kristen."
"Your master is very taken with you." Releasing her hold, the woman stroked one of Kristen's dimpled cheeks. "You are a very fortunate young woman, Kristen. Many wish to be in your place."
"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."
Master again ran his hand through her hair. Kristen turned to look at him with her big, green eyes. With a satisfied smile, he told her she could go. She stood and returned across the room to the others.
As she lowered herself to her knees, she heard the woman next to her say to a statuesque blond, "What are you getting your Mistress this year, Alexis?"
"I am having something special made for her at my favourite jewelers. It'll have a star saphire that matches her eyes prefectly and I don't know how many smaller stones on the neck band."
"I am still thinking about getting my master an old sixty-eight Mustang that a friend of mine is selling. You know how he likes his cars."
"I'm sending Ahmed to Mecca. He hasn't gone there yet. Besides, I will have to stay here," said a short-haired brunette. She rubbed her buttocks. "My backside can use the rest."
They all laughed loud enough to earn reproachful glare from a couple of the Masters. The three slaves bowed their heads in contrition. After the Masters had turned back to their discussion, they moved close to each other and giggled discretely into their hands like school girls.
The evening dragged on. Master showed her to others. They also made appreiative comments. Kristen thanked them each politely and often with a slight blush on her plump cheeks, before retreating back to evesdrop further on the gossip amoung the slaves. Time crawled, but finally, she looked up to see Master's smiling down at her.
He reached down to her. "Time for us to go, young lady."
"Yes, Master."
She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He bent down and put his lips to her forhead. She blushed, making him chuckle from within his chest.
"Don't ever change, my sweet Kristen."
"I won't, Master."
She followed him to the foyer. Two slaves, both males dressed in the classic style of butlers, brought their coats. As one helped Master into his heavy, top coat, the other helped Kristen into her plain cloth jacket. Her cheeks burned as she watched two slaves in maid uniforms help the elegant Mistress Master had first introduced her to and the slave with the gleaming collar into long fur coats.
"I see you've grown tired of this evening as well," said the Mistress to Master as she attached a chain to her slave's collar.
He nodded. "Yes. And I'm afraid I may have overdone it for poor Kristen."
The Mistress smiled at her. "Yes, she does seem to be very quiet."
They stepped out onto the steps of the townhouse. A gentle snow fell. The Mistress pulled a set of keys from her small purse. With a push of a button, a rapid double beep pierced in the night.
Master took Kristen by the hand. They accompanied the Mistress onto the sidewalk. The other slave followed behind just far enough to give her leash a slight slack.
"I am going to have a little get together after the holidays. Something a little less formal," the Mistress said. "Please, bring Kristen. I'll have Michelle introduce her around."
"I shall."
They stopped next to a silver Lexus. The Mistress pressed another button, and the car's trunk eased open. She spoke her slave's name as a command. The woman reached up to undo the clasp of the chain and climbed into the trunk.
The Mistress gave Master's bemused smile a shrug and turned to closed the trunk on her slave.
"I will e-mail you then." She stepped around to the drlver's door. "Have a wonderful evening, Steven."
"You as well, Monica." When the Mistress had pulled away, Master reached up and undid her collar. It slid from her neck. He handed it to her. As he turned to hail a passing cab, Kristen put it into her pocket.
The cab pulled to the curb. Master opened the door, and Kristen stepped inside. She moved to the far corner. As he followed her inside and gave the driver directions, she looked out her window. They each held their peace, as the cab pulled into traffic.
"Monica gave me a job when I was just a snottie nosed ad major fresh out of college. She introduced me to bondage, too. Even sold me the contract of my first slave." Master took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "She really liked you."
"I'm glad."
He studied her for a moment.
"She even made an offer for your contract.
"You've been awful quiet, all evening," he said. " Are you okay?"
"Yes, Master." She sighed. "I just felt a little..."
"Overwhelmed?" She nodded. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't be, Master," she said in a loud voice. The cab driver's eyebrows arched. Kristen blushed and continued in a lower voice. "I just didn't want to displease you."
"Never, my dear one. I just should have never rushed you like that." The cab pulled in front of her building. He kissed her cheek. "If you'd like, I could make my appologies to Monica about her party."
"No, Master. I will be able to go." She looked into his eyes and saw the disbelief. "Please."
He frowned, and his voice grew stern. "Very well, slave. But remember you asked for it." He kissed her. "Now, little one, get inside before you cost me any more money."
She smiled at him and left in a rush. It waited as she fumbled with the lock and keys. Only after she had shut the door behind her, did the cab pull away. Short moments later, she closed the door to her apartment and flipped on the lights. A sticky note next to the switch told Kristen that her roommate would be at her boyfriend's. She chained the door.
Reaching into her jacket pocket, she took out her collar and then hung the coat on an empty hook. She kicked her old dress shoes from her feet and into the corner. Collar in hand, Kristen went down the hall to her room. She lifted the bargin rack dress over her head. With a flick of her wrist, it flew across the room. It landed on the chair her parent's neighbors were going to throw out. It lay there for a moment before it slid into a heap on the floor.
Beneath the dress, she had on nothing. Nude, she walked to the mirror hanging on her closet door. She examined her body and inventoried it in detail as she placed the collar back around her neck.
She compared herself to each of the beautiful women at the party. Her bust was too small. Her legs were too thick. Her butt was too big. She was nothing. Just a poor, fat college student.
She walked to the light switch and flipped it off. She climbed into her bed. She curled up, a hand touching her simple collar, on old sheets given to her by her grandmother, and drifted to sleep.
The alarm rang, and Kristen began the slow process of pulling herself from sleep. After the required number of snoozes, she pulled herself from bed. She quickly prepared herself for the day, and after a swallow of tea and the last bite of her toast, she left to catch the bus to work.
The shop had been open for several hours when she arrived for the start of her shift. The owner, Susan, was occupied with fitting a customer for a dress. Kristen waved hello and began to straighten a table of jeans a small troop of young teens had left a mess.
By the time the customer left the store with her package, Kristen had moved to a table of sweaters. Her thoughts elsewhere, she folded them and stacked them neatly by size. Susan came over and began to help.
"You seem to be pretty chipper for someone who went to a party last night, Kristen." Susan winked at her. "I usaully expect my employees hung over on a saturday."
"Susan, you know I don't drink." Kristen shrugged and added, "Besides, it wasn't that sort of party."
"Yes, I know, but I sometimes forget that you aren't the typical college student. I'm too used to girls like Beth."
"Beth isn't so bad."
Susan laughed. "I'll remind you what you said the next time she keeps you up all night before a test."
"I mean besides that," said Kristen with a stuck out tongue for puncuation.
"I know. It just that you are so much more mature. I'd still be bitching at Beth to start the jeans and you've already started on the sweaters."
Kristen started to protest, but Susan continued, "It'd be nice to see you misbehave a little more. Just to know you are nineteen."
"Okay," Kristen said with giggle. "I'll just come in to work Monday drunk."
Susan giggled as well. "Good for you.
"Oh, have you heard about your painting yet?"
"No, Professer Russell won't have our grades ready for a week. I should be able to get it for you when he does."
"How many times do I need to tell you that I'm not in a hurry, Kristen. As long as I can get it in time to give it to my husband for Christmas. I can give you the check for it now if you need it."
"I told you it was yours for posing, Susan. You don't need to pay me for it."
"Kristen." Susan's voice changed a little; it had a hint of the force that Master's dungeon voice carried. "You can't afford to refuse it."
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