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Holly woke up with a start. She listened carefully, her heart pounding, wondering if she had imagined the noise.

No - there it was again. Some kind of clatter from the living room.

Holly didn’t have any pets. She hadn’t had a roommate in months, and it had been even longer since she had had a boyfriend over. There shouldn’t be anyone but her in the house.

She strained to hear, but all was quiet.

As silently as she could, she slipped out of the bed and towards the door. She felt very vulnerable in her little nighttime outfit now. She had felt cute - maybe even a little naughty - when she put on the little red t-shirt and the white panties with mistletoe on the front. Now she just felt small.

She slowly turned the doorknob and opened her bedroom door a crack, looking out to the living room. She let out an involuntary gasp.

An older, jolly gentleman with a white beard, dressed all in red, was in her living room. There was absolutely no question in her mind. She knew in her heart of hearts: this was Santa. THE Santa.

Hearing her, he turned around and smiled. “Well, hello there, little girl! Come over here.” He sat down on her couch, setting his magical bag on the floor within easy arm’s reach.

There was no question that she would obey. This was Santa, after all. She took a hesitant step forward. Then another, heart hammering. Then suddenly she was running forward, her eyes clouded with tears. She stood in front of him, too choked up to even speak. She never thought she would have the chance to meet Santa in person.

“Shh little girl. It’s ok.” Santa patted his lap. When she hesitated, he leaned forward and gently pulled her into a seated position on his lap, and pulled her close to his chest with an arm. Holly buried her face in his chest, feeling his beard tickle her cheek. He was warm and strong and comforting. He felt like gingerbread, hot chocolate and the first winter snowfall. She felt small and soft. She felt safe in a way she hadn’t in a long, long time.

He still kept an arm firmly around her, keeping her close to his chest. She didn’t mind. She was still letting the tears flow, feeling her long-lived stress just melting away. Her muscles relaxed as she practically melted into his embrace.

“I have something for you, little girl. Hold still now.”

Holly didn’t resist when Santa pulled her arms behind her back. She heard him rustling in his sack, and then something was being pulled up her arms. She made a questioning noise against his chest.

“Shh, little one. Be quiet for Santa.”

Put that way, she could do nothing else. She held still and kept her mouth shut. She wanted to be a good girl. She didn’t resist when she felt the armbinder being pulled tight. Her elbows were pulled together and actually touched. She let out a soft gasp. She didn’t think she was that flexible! She was actually proud of herself.

Santa’s fingers gripped her hair firmly and pulled her head back. She bit back a moan, feeling a little embarrassed. Pulling her hair like that was the surest way to get her dripping. She squeezed her thighs together, trying not to reveal how turned on she suddenly was.

Santa pulled a large red ball gag out of the sack and held it up in front of Holly’s face. She wanted to protest that it was way too big - she didn’t think it would fit. But instead, her mouth opened. He easily popped it into her mouth and then strapped it surprisingly tight behind her head. She let out a surprised grunt.

“Now for your Christmas spanking, little girl!” He grabbed her and turned her around. In a moment she had gone from sitting on Santa’s lap to laying across it. Startled, she let out a muffled squeal.

And then the first blow fell. She started, squirming on his lap. The swat had been harder than she expected. But he firmly pressed her upper body down with one hand, spanking her with the other. Even if she struggled as hard as she could, he didn’t budge. He also didn’t seem to be putting much effort into it. It was trivially easy for him to hold her down, as if she were pathetically weak.

Holly squealed into her gag with every swat. He was spanking her so hard! Every swat proved just how helpless she was. He was in charge. Not her. She could do nothing to stop it. There was something primal about feeling a man’s strong hand on her butt. She felt small. Soft. Put in her place. And very, very turned on.

Being spanked had never made her feel quite like this before. She was still moaning and squirming, but instead of trying to get away, she was lifting her hips to meet each blow. Each swat sent a lightning bolt of pleasure straight through her. The thought that she was soaking wet across Santa’s lap was incredibly embarrassing, but also incredibly hot.

It was over far too soon. Her head felt fuzzy. It was hard to think. She was so aroused. If only he would spank her a few more times, she was sure she would cum. She whined into the gag and wiggled her hips, trying to be enticing.

“Ho ho ho. You’ve been a very naughty little girl. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.” He put her on her back on the couch beside him. She looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. She wanted him to touch her. She NEEDED him to use her.

Santa pulled some straps out of his bag. He lifted her legs in the air and bent them back towards her head. She was surprised by how far her legs could be bent back. Then she was absolutely flabbergasted when he was able to put her ankles behind her head, strapping her calves together. That couldn’t be possible.

Then she was distracted, realizing how vulnerable she was. Her legs were apart and pulled back, putting her panties proudly on display. She felt extremely exposed. Her cheeks flushed, as she thought about how her mistletoe panties were soaking wet and were the most obvious part of her. But still, what she wanted most of all was to be touched, to be used. Holly looked up at Santa and tried to bat her eyes seductively.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” Santa said. He pulled what looked like a red dog collar out of the sack and buckled it tight around her neck. Uncomfortably tight. It shouldn’t be that tight. But somehow, that sense of restriction and control just made her feel even more submissive and aroused. He had absolute control over her. She was just a toy. God, how she wanted his hand on her neck. “You’ve been parking carelessly, sometimes going over the lines. You’ve left time on the office microwave, so people have to clear it before they can use it.” He took a nipple clamp from the sack and tightened it down on her left nipple, through her t-shirt. She whined at the pain, but the pain felt strangely good. The idea that he was doing it to her and she couldn’t stop it made it even better. “You’ve been cutting people off in traffic. You’ve been asking coworkers work questions after hours.” He applied a second nipple clamp. Holly had no idea what he was talking about, but whimpered slightly as the clamp was tightened. “You’ve belittled other people and said it was just a joke. You’ve shoplifted.” He took a large gift box out of the sack, put it on the floor, and set her inside. He must be very strong - he acted as if she weighed nothing at all.

Holly looked up at him with wide eyes and tried to lift her hips. If she wasn’t gagged she would be begging for him to have his way with her right now. Stop talking and start screwing, Santa!

“You’ve taken over other people’s work tasks and screwed them up. You’ve taken loud phone calls in public spaces.”

Holly’s eyes grew wide when Santa pulled out a gleaming silver princess plug with a red gem in the base. No! She wasn’t ready for a butt plug! She had never used one before! She whined helplessly as Santa tugged her panties aside and slid the plug inside her. That… was actually much easier than she thought it would be. But she felt so FULL! Now she needed to be used more than ever!

“You’ve loudly clipped your nails next to your coworkers. You’ve talked in movie theaters.” Santa pulled out a dildo. A large dildo. Much too large! Holly tried to thrash around, but she could hardly wiggle. He had no problem sliding it inside her. Holly felt like an overinflated balloon. With both the butt plug and dildo inside her, she was fuller than she had ever been. And she was so, so close to orgasm.

“You and your friends spread out and walk slowly on sidewalks, parks and in stores, so nobody can pass you. You’re always late, expecting your friends to wait for you,” Santa said.

He slid the dildo slowly in and out a few inches. Yes! Yes! That’s what she needed! Holly strained, clamping down on the dildo with every fiber of her being. Just a little more! For the love of Christmas, just a little faster, just a little harder!

“And that is why you will never cum again,” Santa told her, shoving the dildo deep into her and tugging her panties back in place.

Holly froze. She couldn’t have heard right. She whimpered as loudly as she could into the gag in confusion and protest.

“It’s too late to beg for mercy now. You’ve been a very naughty little girl. And now you will be punished.” Santa squeezed one of her breasts through her little red t-shirt, jiggling the clamp painfully. “You are a living doll. You are weak and easily overpowered. You do not need to eat or breathe or use the bathroom. You can be bound in the most stringent of positions for days at a time without having to worry about circulation. You are constantly aroused, incredibly sensitive to the slightest touch… and it is impossible for you to orgasm, no matter how intense the sensation. You’re going to make some lucky guy or girl very happy.”

Holly screamed into the gag, and screamed and screamed. He must be joking. Santa wouldn’t do this to her! Santa was nice! Santa was safe!

“If you didn’t want to be punished, you should have thought of that before choosing to be naughty all year, Mary.”

Holly paused in confusion. Then she did her best to mumble into the gag frantically.

“What’s that? You’re not Mary? Of course you are. Mary of 111 Stocking Street.” Santa pulled a paper out of the sack. It was very, very long, the end spilling into the infinite contents of his magical sack. Words on the paper seemed to be softly glowing. Santa adjusted his spectacles and examined the list thoughtfully. Holly whimpered.

“Oh. Oh dear. I see now. The naughty girl is Mary of 1111 Stocking Street. You are Holly, of 111 Stocking Street. And you are on the nice list, not the naughty list.” Holly nodded frantically and looked up at Santa with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging for her freedom, for her future.

“Hm. Hm hm hm.” Santa bit his lip thoughtfully, looking from the list to her, and back to the list again. Then he shrugged. “Oh well. Too late now.”

Holly screamed into her gag with all her might. Which wasn’t much.

“Sorry about that. These things happen. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to place you in a good home, with someone who will play with their little bondage doll every day.”

He placed the lid over her, trapping her in darkness in the small, small box. Her arms tightly strapped behind her back. Her legs bent back with incredible flexibility behind her head. A collar too tight around her slender neck. A large ball gag stuffing her mouth full and keeping her quiet. Nipple clamps torturing her delicate nipples every moment. The butt plug and dildo stuffing her so thoroughly that she thought she’d explode.

And she was still dripping wet. Still so incredibly turned on that she felt the slightest touch would make her explode into orgasm. But now she knew that would never, ever happen.

How long would she be in this box? Hours? How would her new owner treat her? Would she be kept in a box under his or her bed? Put on display on the wall? Would she be a sex toy? A dress up doll? A domestic slave, chained up so she couldn’t run away?

From outside the box, she barely heard Santa say “Now to take care of that naughty girl on 1111 Stocking Street. Don’t worry, Holly. I’ll be extra hard on her. Now you just be a good ho ho ho for Santa.”