I could hardly keep the huge smile off my face as I unlocked the front door; I was going to spend Christmas with my Mistress! Her card arrived in the post on the 15th. It was by no means a traditional Christmas card: no snow scenes, no pictures of Robins or Santa but instead a picture of a black leather stiletto-heeled boot pressing a man’s head into a bowl of pale yellowish liquid. Instead of “Merry Christmas” the inscri...