Author's Note: A fun little piece of erotica I wrote as a Christmas present for a friend. Sequels are a possibility, so if you have ideas, comment away. :)


Christmas. That time of the year for reuniting with family, decorating indoor trees, and spending an obscene amount on socks and chocolates.

But not for Jessica Waters of Bunn Street. Her family was continents away, and her flatmates just wanted to get smashed and wake up on Boxing Day with a killer hangover. Not her idea of a good time. She was a shy nerd who'd rather spend the day playing Tomb Raider than socialising with actual people... or better yet, spend the day masturbating to her favourite porn. But her best friend insisted she come along to some Christmas party, promising there'd be hot guys and free food.

Jess scoffs. She wasn't interested in empty flirting and she didn't need the calories. But Ash had pestered her about this party for weeks and Jess had reluctantly conceded she "might" come. That was about as definite she got with social commitments, so her friend had stopped pushing.

So it was that instead of watching Lara Croft climb through another musty tomb, Jess found herself in the bathroom that Christmas morning applying the finishing touches to her makeup. She'd borrowed some of her flatmate's festive clothing for the occasion, and the fuzzy red material of the one-piece dress meshed perfectly with her Cherry Lush lipstick. She'd also brushed her usually-messy long hair back into a smooth ponytail. It felt strange to touch - silky instead of rough - but she could hardly go to a party looking like a zombie.

Ding dong.

Shoot, her ride was here already? She hurriedly finishes dabbing blush on her cheeks and and slips a clip into her hair to keep her fringe back. Then she runs to the front door, realising halfway that she isn't wearing shoes. She grabs her favourite 3" heels and slips them on as she hops the rest of the way to the door.

"Ash, I-"

Jess freezes as the door swings inward. It isn't her friend waiting on the doorstep, but Him. They'd never met in person, yet she knows him in an instant: James.

They'd met a few months ago in a chatroom that Jess would blush to mention in polite company. It had been an outlet for her deepest, darkest desires - fantasies that she was ashamed to have, let alone share with a stranger. Yet somehow he had understood. It was liberating. With him she could throw off the shackles of public censure and embrace her innermost desires. So she played the harlot: sultry, coy, teasing. A massive flirt. Over the months as they'd chatted online, she'd shared with him intimate fetishes and increasingly depraved scenarios in which said fantasies became flesh. The desire to be bound in tight rope, contorted into humiliating positions, restrained with stiff leather, or clad in gleaming latex. The urge to have her body stretched out like a canvas, her most intimate areas teased and tickled, then slapped and cropped as they flushed with arousal. The need to be used, wholly used, every sensation given or denied at the whim of her lover.

And James had shared some of his own desires in return: the desire to bind, to restrain, to titillate. They had more in common than she'd dreamed. Sometimes they'd roleplay a master-slave dynamic, other times the serendipitous meeting of two kinky strangers, and sometimes they'd simply talk about their day.

In those short few months they'd become as close as two people communicating solely by text could. And yet Jess had never had any intention of meeting him. For her it was all fantasy - sensuous, enthralling fantasy - but nonetheless a part of her life that she'd prefer remain beneath the surface. She'd made sure James knew this, and believed he'd felt the same way.

Yet here he is. How did he even find her? With a jolt she remembers: a passing muse, a throwaway mention of her street. They'd been joking about pickup lines for kinksters, and she'd said something like, "... oh, so you'd just come down to little old Bunn street packing a ball gag and start knocking on doors, would you?" He already knew which state she lived in and must have inferred her street address from various details of her apartment she'd shared over the months. Half of her is mortified at her mistake. The other half, however...

"The name's James, actually, but you already knew that," he grins. "Hey Jess. Or would you prefer Raven?"

As he voices her online name she flinches and looks around quickly, checking if anybody heard.

"James! I- uh- What are you doing here?"

Flustered. Why does she have to be flustered... This is her place - she has every right to slam the door in his face.

"Seeing you, obviously. You mentioned you weren't looking forward to Christmas this year so I thought I'd come around and personally make sure you have a good time."

He's still smiling that infuriating grin. Confident, easy, as if this wasn't a cataclysmic event of virtual and real worlds colliding.

"You look incredible, by the way," he says seriously, taking a step forward. Instinctively she takes a step back, releasing the door.

"Um... thanks," she mumbles, blushing furiously. She wants to explain this isn't her usual appearance, but his awe is flattering and she can't help but savour it a moment longer.

"And sorry for tracking you down like this. It must be a bit... surreal."

"No, you're not," she scoffs, as he takes another step forward, now over the threshold.

"No, I'm not," he admits, the grin returning in full force. He reaches out and places his hand on her waist, pushing her inside as he swings the door closed behind him.

"James..." she begins, a note of caution in her voice.

He puts a finger to her gleaming red lips and continues to push her waist gently until she feels the wall behind her. His hand drops to her shoulder, then slides down her arm, feeling the fluffy sleeve of her Christmas outfit. He reaches her wrist and holds it tenderly, like a fragile doll, and pushes it behind her. She hears a click followed by a loud ratcheting noise and suddenly finds she can't move her hands. Her pulse races, the room seemingly warmer by at least ten degrees.

"James..." she murmurs again, voice quivering with uncertainty.

"Shhh," he replies softly. "You've been blushing since the moment you saw me. Your nipples are practically visible through this dress, and if I'm not mistaken..." he slips a hand beneath the skirt of the dress and rubs her panties firmly as she draws a sharp intake of breath. He smiles knowingly. "...You're cooking like a little strumpet. You want this, Jess, even if you don't know it yet. So just relax and enjoy it."

She clenches her fists and strains against her ziptied wrists, feeling only more aroused as she fails to separate them.

James crouches and reaches up into her dress, pulling her panties down to her feet. She freezes, but he turns his attention to her ankles next, not her crotch. Somehow he knots the panties so that they remain stuck around her ankles when she shakes her foot. Then he straightens up and plucks another infernal accessory from his pocket: nipple clamps.

"Oh no you don't," Jess mutters through gritted teeth. James simply smiles and silently massages the proud mounds giving shape to her dress. He knows she hates wearing a bra - it's one of those peculiar things he loves about her. Consequently her nipples were already visible as small nubs through the red material of the dress, but now they stand out like little teepees. And that's the moment he decides to release the teeth of the clamps upon her sensitive buds.

Jess hisses in subdued agony. She'd always wanted to try on butterfly clamps, intrigued by their devious design of tightening when pulled, but had never imagined the pain would be quite so acute. She bites her lower lip, trying to get a handle on the pain.

"Oh! I'm sorry," James exclaims. "That reminds me..."

He pulls out a shiny ball gag - bright red, of course - and holds it before her mouth. After a pause, she opens it obediently, and he continues confidently with her implicit consent. Watching her eyes with glee, he slides the ball past her teeth and straps it in firmly, enjoying her transformation from glamorous Christmas girl into gagged submissive.

Finally he attaches a fine Y-shaped chain to her nipple clamps and tugs on the end.

"Come along, Jess," he commands happily as she winces and glares at him. "We're going exploring!"

She stumbles forward from the wall, nearly tripping from the first step. Her panties effectively hobble her ankles, making every step a challenge, especially in her shiny heels. If she moves too slowly, those devious butterfly clamps dig their evil little teeth harder into her nipples; and if she trips... Jess shudders at the thought.

James leads her through the apartment, giving her nipples the occasional tug just because he can. He peers into each room as they pass, finally stopping outside hers. "Aha! This room must be yours."

Jess nods, slightly impressed. She lives with two other girls of similar age whose rooms were both in similar states of disarray.

"Tomb Raider, Mass Effect, Dragon Age," he lists, motioning to each poster as he speaks. "Clearly the room of my favourite gamer girl," he grins, stroking her hair fondly. Jess blushes and tries to shy away, but is instead rewarded with a sharp tug on her crushed nipples as the chain snaps taut.

James continues inside, leading her by the nipples. With a few quick sweeping movements, he makes her bed, then lifts and places her atop it.

He slips a hand into his other pocket, revealing a whole stash of zipties which he throws on the bed beside her. Jess groans. She remembers their conversation about zipties perfectly: "They're evil," she'd said. "They go on effortlessly, but then no amount of struggling in the world will break them off." He must have chosen them precisely for that reason, because he knew they'd drive her mad.

Manipulating her body like a ragdoll, he flips Jess onto her chest and folds each leg back on itself, throwing her panties into the corner. He tries to ziptie her ankles to her thighs, but the ziptie isn't long enough, so he improvises. He closes one ziptie around her thigh, then another around her ankle, running under the first, locking her leg in a folded position. After repeating this for both legs, he puts a ziptie around each arm, just below the elbow, and connects them with a third ziptie, pulling her forearms irrevocably closer together with every click of the ratchet. Jess twists and struggles, knowing full well that every inch of movement lost would stay that way until the ziptie was cut. She knows her struggles are futile, but instinct renders her unable to stop herself from testing the restrains all the same.

Finally, James loops a final ziptie around her wrist and ankle restraints, effectively hogtying her. All while still wearing a fluffy red-and-white Christmas dress and shiny black heels. Jess lets out a defeated huff.

"Now, you're going to have to help me out here, my little elf," says James. "I can only fit so many toys in my pockets - I trust you have your own vibrator somewhere around here?"

Jess blushes furiously, but nods.

"Excellent! That's my kinky girl," he beams. "Could you stare at the place it's hidden?"

She gazes over at the bottom drawer of her dresser. James follows her eyes and opens the drawer, rummaging through clothes until he finds a veritable goldmine of fetish gear. Gags, cuffs, belts, a vibrator, cane, even a butt plug! Grinning, he withdraws the vibrator: a mains-powered wand vibrator that looks like it has seen the wars. He plugs in the vibrator and nestles it between Jessica's legs, watching her pretty blue eyes grow wide with anticipation.

Click.

A low rumble announces the vibrator's lowest setting, almost drowned out by the moans suddenly escaping his captive's gag. James pats her hair fondly and watches her eyes unfocus with bliss. She was an astonishing catch, really. Chance had favoured him greatly the day he'd found her in that chatroom. In the flesh, she was every bit the sexy minx he'd come to love online - well, perhaps a bit paler than she'd been in the old holiday photos she'd sent him. And undeniably more reluctant than her online persona, but compliant enough that he could remedy that reluctance as he showed her all the fun she'd been missing out on.

Knock knock.

Her eyes fly wide open. Jess looks at James in horror, suddenly remembering she's still due to be picked up for the Christmas party. James remains infuriatingly calm, stroking her silky hair as she all but hyperventilates.

"Relax, girl. Whatever plans you had have changed. Soon they'll realise you're not available and leave."

Jess shakes her head, trying to convey through incoherent mumbling how persistent her friend Ash could be.

"What, are you afraid they'll barge inside? Follow the trail of drool here?"

Jess wails in desperation. He wasn't even joking - there had been nothing she could do to stop the drool escaping as she'd trotted through the apartment.

James sighs. "Alright. I'll handle it."

He gets up, answering her fearful eyes. "Don't worry, I won't let them see me."

With that he leaves the room, closing her door on the way out and leaving her bound in a webbing of zipties. Struggling is futile, so she spends the time reflecting on every poor life choice that had led to this moment. The internet had seemed like such a safe place to let her fantasies run wild - never had she dreamed they'd become reality. And yet there's no denying how it makes her feel, how it makes her thighs tremble, or the heavy musk of sweat and arousal now filling the small room. Eventually she concludes things aren't so bad, yet. If only that rumbling vibrator was on a higher setting, then she'd be too preoccupied to worry.

James returns triumphantly, grinning as he sees Jess exactly where he left her.

"She left! After a compelling performance by yours truly consisting of a bit of thumping around and an apology scrawled on a piece of paper and held to the window. She didn't look too impressed, but hopefully she'll understand whatever explanation you decide to give her."

Jess breathes a sigh of relief. She'd deal with her friend later. Now, if he could just nudge that vibrator a fraction closer...

Of the same mind, James flips the vibrator to the "high" setting and nestles it flush against her glistening pussy. Then he kneels beside the bed, watching her face lazily as one might watch TV. As her eyes unfocus he flips out his phone and snaps a few photos for later enjoyment. And a video or two, naturally. In the second video he captures what looks suspiciously like a climax: Jessica's pupils dilate, her moans intensify, and her body thrashes violently for a few seconds. He cradles her chin in his hands, wiping away some drool with his fingers.

Her eyes return to his, wide and pleading. It's abundantly clear the stimulation has become too much. So he smiles and plays the fool.

"Yes, dear? Is something wrong?"

Insistent moaning ensues.

"Sorry, couldn't quite make that out. Are you asking for my permission to cum?"

She starts to shake her head, but stops as she realises how insolent she would appear. Slowly, reluctantly, she nods, eyes watering.

"Good girl," James grins, playing along. "You may cum."

Hanging her head in defeat, Jess surrenders to another wave of torturous pleasure. Tremors wrack her nubile body, which bucks and strains against her bondage in turn. Giving her ample time to ride out every last ripple, James finally switches off the vibrator to the exhausted sigh of a very relieved Jessica.

"Oh dear, look at the effect you have on me, sweet thing," he smiles, allowing his rigid shaft to spring free into his hand. "Do you think you could help me out here?"

Jess stares at him blankly for a moment, then nods. He unbuckles and removes her ball gag with a distinctive plop. Her mouth continues to hang open, perhaps in invitation to its new inhabitant, or perhaps simply because it feels odd to close it after being gagged for so long. James decides it's the former. Straightening up so that his manhood stands erect by her mouth, he eases the tip of his cock past her lush red lips, already dribbling with precum. He gently pushes in deeper, enjoying his first time receiving the unique sensation her mouth offers. She knows not to close her jaw, but beyond that, her inexperience is evident. But he doesn't care - this must be a special moment for her, the deflowering of her oral virginity, and he intends to make it memorable.

His hands grip the sides of her head firmly, guiding her back and forth in conjunction with his own thrusts. He feels her mouth adapting as she discovers new ways to deliver stimulation with her cheeks and tongue. She's certainly a fast learner. Before long he feels the pressure building in his shaft and he pushes in deeper, holding her head in place. She feels the change in his grip and tugs back weakly, uncertain if she was ready for what came next. But her reluctance is too little too late. James acts on primal instinct now, grunting with satisfaction as her warm wet mouth drives him over the edge. His strong arms effortlessly hold her struggling head in place, pumping her full of his seed. His hot load shoots forth down her throat in powerful spurts, and he rubs her head appreciatively.

James pulls out of her mouth, the final vestiges of cum dribbling down her chin. "Good girl!" he beams, tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. "That was incredible, especially if you've never done it before."

Jess shakes her head and smiles weakly, then cheekily bares her straight white teeth. She awkwardly swallows, having no other choice at this point. He smiles encouragingly and waits patiently as her voice returns with a croak.

"Never. But I'll try anything once," she says slyly, echoing the mantra she loved to say online.

"And more than once, perhaps?" he asks hopefully.

She grins. "We'll see."

He cuts the ziptie connecting her wrists to ankles and helps her to sit up on the bed, legs still fettered and arms still bound tightly behind her.

"I bet you forgot about these."

He tweaks one of the butterfly clamps on her firm nipples, chuckling at the groan it elicits. "Amazing what a bit of pleasure makes you forget, huh?"

"More like an avalanche of pleasure," she blushes.

He laughs and proudly pats the space between her frogtied legs, the red dress sticking to her wet crotch. "Time to balance it out a little then. They say the only thing worse than nipple clamps going on is nipple clamps coming off."

With a sadistic grin, he unclips both clamps and waits.

For the briefest moment nothing happens. Then Jess lets out a comical yelp and tries to cradle her nipples, forgetting her wrists are securely bound behind her. Ever the gentleman, James assists with his own hands, cradling her proud bust and massaging her aching nubs. The tight coupling of her elbows behind her back meant her chest was thrust out even further than normal, and he spares no effort to ensure every inch of her pillowy breasts feels loved and supported. In a physical sense.

From her pointed stare, Jess knew exactly what he was doing, and it was his turn to blush. Even though she can't do a thing about it, there's a certain stigma to groping a girl's breasts purely for enjoyment, and he felt oddly ashamed for doing so.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, alright, have your fun." It made no sense to deny him this simple pleasure after all that had transpired.

James grins and continues massaging her breasts, revelling in their blissful softness. Jess grits her teeth and tries to feign indifference.

"Well, now that I've enjoyed using my little plaything I suppose I should pack her up and put her away in the closet," he teases, laughing as she pouts.

He snips away at the remaining zipties and helps as she gingerly stretches her legs. No sooner are her hands free than she slaps him lightly across the cheek.

"I suppose I deserve that," he admits.

"Damn right you do. Coming in here like that with your zipties and clamps and..." she trails off, sighs happily, and wraps her arms around him, throwing her weight against his. He returns the cuddle, patting her awkwardly on the back. For the first time since knocking on her door he isn't sure how to respond.

"Merry Christmas Jessica," he murmurs as they sink into the bed in a tight embrace.

"Merry indeed," Jess replies, stifling giggles against his shoulder.

When they eventually do disentangle from each other, James adds, "Everything you were wearing is my gift to you. The clamps, chain, gag, even the unused zipties," he grins. "If you want some help using those... you know where to find me."

He stands up, looking at her one last time, his eyes filled with unbridled desire. "So beautiful," he murmurs, then turns and sweeps out the door.

Jess is left sitting there feeling like a hurricane just swept through the apartment - and looking the part too. Her hair is a mess. Her makeup is a mess. Her outfit - oh dear, she'd have to return this to her flatmate sooner or later and she doubted "I cummed in it" would hold up as an excuse.

But there's one other matter still niggling at the back of her mind. Photos, she suddenly remembers. She definitely remembers hearing the sound of a shutter at some point. If James has photos... She doubts he'd be cruel enough to blackmail her or post them publicly, but even so, the thought of it gives her a strange rush. What was she becoming?

One thing was for certain: Best. Christmas. Ever!