Twas The Night Before Christmas (BDSM style)

By | December 24, 2012

Author Unknown (is anyone knows the author I will gladly give credit)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the domain,
Not a subbie was stirring, (they were tied down with chain)
The shackles were hung by the chimney with care,
And the St. Andrews cross stood empty and bare.

The subbies were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of floggers danced in their heads;
The Dom in his leather, and I in my slave cap,
Had just settled down after getting our whacks.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I crept from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew very quickly.
Tripped over some handcuffs and cursed soft and thickly.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my sleep-crusted eyes should unfurl,
But a miniature sleigh, pulled by eight pony girls,

With a Dominant driver, so forbidding and stern,
I knew in a moment I’d a great deal to learn.
More rapid than eagles his pony girls came,
And he whipped them, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, dashslave! now, danceslave! now, pranceslave and switch!
On, subbie! on slavegirl! on, slavepet and bitch!
To the top of the porch! to the training room wall!
And I’ll redden your bottoms, should one of you fall!

As terrified tears before the cat-o-nine flow,
When they meet with an obstacle, gather courage and go,
So up to the house-top the pony girls flew,
With the sleigh full of sex toys, and the Dominant too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of pony girl boots.
As I drew in my head with a sense of forebode,
In through the front door the Dominant strode.

He was dressed all in black, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all studded, leathered and neat.
A bundle of sex toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked very menacing opening his pack.

His eyes, they were hard with a definite glower
His countenance cold, and I quite felt his power.
His sternly set mouth bespoke no reprieve,
For the unlucky subbie who caused him to grieve.

The goatee he sported lent a devilish air
As did the slight spatter of gray in his hair.
He had strong pectorals and a muscular torso.
That hardened and flexed and gave force to each blow.

He was lean, stern and fit, quite the Dom of my dreams,
And I wanted to serve him, so went down on my knees.
He looked down upon me, with a turn of his head,
He made my soul tremble while my heart filled with dread;

He spoke not a word, but put me to straight to work,
He watched me in silence, idly tapping his quirt.
“Heel me,” he commanded, the lone words he would say,
And he stalked out the door as I rushed to obey.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team cracked the whip,
Pulled me ‘cross his knee, where i hung scared and limp.
And he whispered to me, “I shall teach you a lesson.
Happy Christmas, new slave; tonight we shall session.”

Happy Kinky Christmas, Y’all!