Some of the so-called Gentlemen at the Retreat like to make me feel good. I guess it strokes their egos along with other parts of them as they watch my body react to their touch. Some men like to hurt me. I don’t know what issues they have and why they enjoy seeing other human beings suffering at their hands but I’m not their shrink, nor do I suppose they have one. None of the men seem to have any problem justifying their use or abuse of me and if it even occurs to them that I’m not here willingly they don’t care.
There are other men who like to dress things up a little. There are the obvious school girl or secretary requests but sometimes I’m told to prepare myself and get into character for something very different and very particular. That’s sort of what happened when I turned up at the Retreat last night.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose, considering it’s Christmas. I walked into the house slowly, quietly, and carefully as I always do, pushing open those big, heavy doors with dread.
“You’re cute. You’ll do.”
I looked up just in time to see something red and white flying through the air at me. (I had been carefully staring at the floor to try and avoid making eye contact with anyone. Sometimes, if you look away and pretend you’re already doing something or on your way to see someone else, the men leave you alone. For a while, anyway.)
I managed to catch the bundle in my arms.
Clutching what looked like clothing I followed the man up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. He closed the door and locked it.
I hate it when they lock the door. I know I couldn’t get very far if I did try and run and that I’d only be punished severely for doing so anyway, but at least if the door is unlocked I have the illusion that I’m not trapped. And sometimes, when the men are especially cruel and I’m really terrified, I do run because at that moment I can’t imagine that any punishment could be worse than what I’m experiencing. Of course, it usually is.
Anyway, the man walked over to the bed and pointed to a screen behind which I supposed he wished me to change into the clothing he’d thrown at me. I did so.
I walked out a few moments later wearing one of the most ridiculous elf costumes I’d ever seen. I think it was supposed to be sexy, and that’s obviously the affect it had on the man judging by his reaction when he saw me, but I thought it looked stupid.
Okay, try and picture this, starting from my toes and working your way up:
White and red striped thigh-length socks. A tiny red skirt that flared out and only barely covered my bottom. No underwear, of course. Wide suspenders clipped to the waist of the skirt that ran up over my breasts, just barely covering them, over my shoulders and down my back. (They were the worst part of the costume because they touched and rubbed my nipples each time I moved.) A very silly little pointy red hat with a white pom-pom. Fake white fur trim everywhere including little bands that went around my wrists and neck and had little bells attached which jingled as I moved.
Yup, jingle bells.
I walked over to the bed as slowly as I could, trying not to make the stupid bells or the awful suspenders move too much. As I approached, I realized with a start that the man had also changed his outfit.
I only barely managed not to laugh.
Yes, you have, I am sure, guessed it. He was dressed as Santa, fake white beard and all.
“Well, well, hello there, my favorite little elf. How are you today?”
“Um… I’m fine… thank you…” I had no idea what he expected of me. Sometimes I’m briefed on what to do or say during a role-play but this man either wanted me to guess or just make it up as I went along I guess. I just hoped I’d get it right.
“That’s good. So what can I do for you then?”
What on earth was I supposed to say? “Um… nothing I… I um… just thought I’d come and say hello. You know, I just wanted to take a short break from making all the… you know… Christmas presents for everyone?”
He beamed a smile at me (which I could see even through the huge fake whiskers so I knew he was pleased with me so far which was a relief).
“Ah, that’s lovely to hear, my favorite little elf. And how is the Christmas present making going then? Are you on schedule?”
“Oh yes, Santa, definitely!” I was starting to feel a little more confident and, despite the stupid outfit, I was almost enjoying the game now. If he just wanted to make believe like this all night I’d go home very happy.
“How wonderful! Now, come and sit here on the bed with me.”
I took a deep breath and walked over to him. Of course, he wasn’t going to be happy with just talking. I felt as stupid as my outfit for even entertaining that notion.
“Tell me, how many gifts do you think you’ve made today?”
“Um… about… one hundred?”
“Only one hundred?”
“No, um, I meant, that was this morning, I made one hundred before lunch. But I took an early lunch and then I got really busy this afternoon and I probably finished at least a thousand just before coming to see you…”
My heart had begun to pound in my chest at the idea of having done something wrong that I hadn’t even done.
He looked at me suspiciously.
“You don’t sound very sure. Should I go to the workshop and check? Should I phone Mrs. Claus?”
“Oh no, no need, please, I really did finish one thousand toys today. You can ask Rudolph!”
He burst out laughing.
“Oh, my dear, sweet favorite little elf. You just want Santa to give you a good spanking don’t you!”
“Hush my dear, it’s okay, Santa understands. Here, lie down on my lap.”
I let out a squeal as he suddenly grabbed me a laid me across his knees. I tried to push up but he held on to me and then I could feel his large hands caressing my naked bottom. He was chuckling softly.
“It’s the same every year. I don’t know why we both pretend that we don’t know exactly why you visit me. Now then, lie still, and Santa will make your sweet little ass as red as your stockings and then, as a special Christmas treat, Santa will serve you a large helping of his yule log. Would you like that, my favorite little elf, hmm? I bet you would. I know you would! Now, remember, after each slap you say, ‘Thank you, Santa, please spank me harder, Santa!'”
I cried out as his hand suddenly slapped me smartly across the buttocks. It stung. I had no idea how long or how many times he’d hit me but, judging by what he wanted me to say, I was scared it wouldn’t be just a few.
“Now now, my little elf, don’t forget your words. Santa doesn’t like it when you’re rude. And you know what happens if you make Santa mad, don’t you?”
I didn’t know, but I had no intention of finding out. If this humiliating spanking-with-script was him being happy, I didn’t want to earn his punishment.
“Thank you, Santa… Please… spank me harder, Santa…”
“Ah, that’s more like it! Yes, of course, my favorite little elf, here you go!”
My whimpers quickly became screams as his hands gradually turned my backside into fire. I could swear at times he was using both hands at once and he continued to slap me even harder whether I asked him to or was crying too hard to speak. At first I thought I couldn’t take the pain anymore, my skin was so sore, so raw, and I tried with all my strength to get away from him. Then, when I realized I couldn’t get free, and when the pain just became too much, I lay there, almost lifeless on his lap.
Finally, he stopped.
I slowly uncurled my fingers from the bedsheets that I hadn’t realized I’d been gripping on to so tightly.
His voice was soft and thick with lust. “Oh my favorite little elf. You really are amazing. Every year! How do you do it? Well, now that you’ve had your little treat, I think I deserve mine, don’t you?”
I couldn’t move. He didn’t care.
He flopped my body, like that of a rag doll or – an elf – across the bed so that I was lying on my tummy. Then he grabbed two pillows, lifted my bottom, and pushed them under me before spreading my legs.
“Do you know how cute you look, with your little ass all red and up in the air, just waiting for Santa’s enormous Christmas present?”
I hoped he didn’t actually want a response.
I didn’t even make a sound as he used me roughly. I had cried and screamed so much during the spanking that I didn’t have anything left.
So I thought.
I was relieved when he pulled out.
“Ah, my favorite little elf. Santa is especially pleased with you this year. Would you like an extra something? Hmm? To show you just how much I appreciate this cute little ass of yours? Hmm? I bet you would, you naughty little elf, I bet you would!”
He didn’t wait for me to reply and didn’t change his mind when I started to beg him to stop as he pushed himself into my bottom. It hurt so much. He was too big and it felt too strange. I started crying again and pleading with him to please stop but he just chuckled.
“Oh, my silly little elf, you know you like it! But if you prefer, we can always start the spanking again…”
The tone of his voice left no doubt that he knew very well I didn’t like it and he didn’t care.
At last, he finished inside me and pulled out. A vicious slap on my sore bottom elicited a final scream from me and a hearty laugh from “Santa”.
“That was fun! Thanks, sweetheart, you did a great job! I’ll look you up again next year, if you’re still around.”
I heard him walk out the room.
Merry Christmas to you to, you bastard, I thought as I lay there in pain.
If I’m still around next year? Surely I’ll be able to find a way out of here by next year!
I met Taun on Christmas. How many years ago?
I started to cry again as I realized that I could have been out of here this Christmas if I hadn’t been so stupid and messed things up with him.
I have to find a way out by next Christmas. I can’t spend another whole year here, I can’t!