Santa's Helper

This really hurt. My first letter back from the North Pole: “Dear Goddess Saphire, You are not on the list of naughty girls this year.” I thought I had read that wrong and was shocked. I had been banned from good girl status since I put aphrodesiacs in the reindeer water and he spent all night really seeing what shouting “Cum Dancer On Blitzen” gets you. “You enslaved half my elves last year to build your website, and it’s so good the other half are lusting for you all over the dollhouses, which for some reason come equipped with slave cages and penetration stockades. My wife still fumes over the pictures – my red suit replaced by that stunning sequin gown that’s part of my forced feminization conditioning. It won’t be the same since the Department of Transpo demanded I remove the anal plug built into the sleigh seat – you said take it with me everywhere! But they didn’t buy that excuse until I sat them in front of the computer and your image. Hehe, I truly enjoyed directing them to your Male Whore Induction, hope they are still paying off for you. Another reason to skip your house? You have men and women around the world now worshipping you and not that fellow from the black book found in a lot of cheap hotels – ahem, you know who I’m talking about. We won’t say any NAMES (son-of-god, ahem, just clearing my throat) but let’s say that professional jealousy from a certain spoiled risen savior resulted in a swarm of locusts this summer. Oh sure, it could be an act of nature, locusts 3,000 miles from the nearest food in sub-zero weather. I can’t blame them for worshipping you instead, maybe if Priests dished out pain so sweet they’d be getting enough head to spare the children. I had to pretend at the Superhero Convention that I didn’t recognize it was you dressed up in the Devil’s Version of Santa’s Helper. The Ball Gag made out of a snow-globe was a nice touch. Word went around you’re going to use Gabriel’s Trumpet as a strap-on and I had to bite my lip to keep from blurting out that the vibrato feels like every word you say is permeating my soul. So for the above reasons, you are not on the list for naughty girls. Your name appears tattooed on the chubby cock you now control. I’m not stopping by on the sleigh, I’m sending a limousine full of presents to you first so you won’t be so rough with me (give me more, give me more) At dawn run down the stairs in that unbelievably sexy blood red corset you sleep in and you’ll find me already roasting my chestnuts in front of your branding iron in your dungeon. The only red nose you’ll see this Xmas is mine after a good hour of breath play, if I’m lucky.”

It’s that time of year when I am in the giving mood. Giving pain, giving addiction, giving hope that I might push each of you harder.

I got such a collection of new bondage and discipline gear this Christmas, thanks for hopeful new Servants, that I could not leave for me holiday without dressing up in full adornment to play with a few of them. Slipping on my stiletto pumps over the thigh highs … massaging the breasts you adore as I slip them into my leather bra, elbow black gloves, pulling panties that barely conceal my doorway to hell’s pleasure … my hair flowing over my breasts as they heave on every step down to the dungeon. I had a servant prepare three slaves to test the devices.

First came the fingertip torture extensions: rolling spurs, pinpoints, and my favorite, the rasps that will make the skin of your cock raw just enough to that even blowing wind makes you cum. The cries of pain got so intense I did not ball gag him, I stuffed his mouth with the help of my beautiful dominatrix friend, Mistress Sophie, training under me. She lowered over him and smothered him until he learned that with each touch of pain, his tongue was to spell out the alphabet where it pleases her most. It’s funny, but even grown men in pain have to mutter that alphabet song to get it straight – oh, and I got it straight all right. I kept him on the edge of release until he collapsed.

This let us both focus on our second table of gifts: PENETRATORS! Yea! We played “What is it?” with slave #2. Strap ons in all colors and flavors. Anal plugs that play jingle bells. Undulating dildos that remind him that I own him inside and out. I’m getting an email every hour begging to put him back in the stockade.

Whips were hung by the chimney with care. Ouch, that looks like it really hurts! Hahahaha. Don’t you dare lose that erection or it’s another 50 lashes. My personal favorites were the gift packages that included cock and ball restraints that could be used when they play the horse for their Goddess.

And finally there were the cages. Cages of all sizes. Cock cages that have sharp points in them to penetrate your blood red cock as it’s kept from growing. The slave could not imagine the pain this would bring him. Upon release, his throbbing was so intense I had to suffocate him to keep him from releasing too early. I have a dozen of them, reserved for the best servants of the new year.

So while I am enjoying the pampering and luxury due a true Goddess, you all can read this over and over again. Send me your letters telling me what a bad boy you’ve been. You’ll get stocking stuffers and anal stuffers that will overwhelm your mind, body, and soul.

Oh, and Santa – I want 4 straight nights of orgasm denial before you meet me – you know the drill!