Just a few more hours...just a few more, Agent Lauren McCreddie thought. She may have been a Personal Protective Agent, but this assignment way by far the most annoying assignment she had. It was to provide protection for a teenager - well, not any teenager; this girl was distantly related to some of the cousin of the country's fifth in line to the throne of something like that. Given the distant relation, it wasn't really the case that she should receive protection. However, there was a recent case of home invasions, with the intruder or intruders targeting rich and high class girls. So Lauren found her Christmas Eve amongst a sea of people, since the "royal" teens was hosting a party.
She felt conspicuous, even though she had dressed as instructed for a party – a silver and black loose blouse, black trousers and a pair of high heels. Even then, compared to the short skirts and tight tops the girls were wearing, it was like she was wearing a formal ball gown to a dinner invite.
"McCreddie, check in," her ear piece crackled. It was her superior, Agent Freddie Franks, who was in the monitoring car half a block away.
"Her...e," she replied, trying to strain her eye on her subject. It was hard to do so given that the house was cramped full with other teenagers, mainly girls. Most of them were in Christmas outfits and almost all of them looked similar. It thus was practically impossible to keep an eye on the main subject.
She then saw the target for tonight – dressed in a black waistcoat and a black leather skirt that looked more like a belt than a skirt, paired with high boots that almost reached her crotch.
"Status?" Came the voice.
"All green. Freddie, it's thicker than a shopping crowd here," she complained. "There's no way to maintain a safe coverage on the subject." Just then, another elf-like girl bumped into her and spilt some sticky drink on her arm.
"No one said protection details are easy, McCreddie. Out."
Some comfort, Lauren thought, shifting herself and brushing away a Christmas streamer. She was the only agent inside the house, which wasn't usually the case. But due to government cut backs, many agents had been laid off so the detail for key subjects was much smaller. Just as Lauren had clear view of the "royal teen", she heard a loud BANG!
Immediately Lauren reached for her Glock 26 before someone passed by her, with a empty party pooper in her hand.
“Bloody hell,” Lauren thought. “You're lucky I didn't shoot you. Oh when will this silly party end....”
Just as Lauren positioned herself again, the lights above flickered and then blew. As the house plunged into darkness, there was a series of cries from the partiers, so high pitched that they nearly burst her eardrums.
"Control, control, come in!" Lauren immediately shouted into her microphone.
"Freddie do you copy? The lights just be..." before she could finish her sentence, she smelt a foul smelling smell and then fell to the floor. Before she passed out, she saw the other guests falling to the ground...
Lauren awoke with a throbbing pain in her head. She blinked her eyes rapidly to see a figure tower over her - a figure dressed as Santa Claus. The beard covered his lower face, and the dark glasses his eyes, but the red suit, white trim, black gloves and boots – all present and correct.
He had some sort of object in his hands and instinctively, she reacted, but her muscles were unable to move. In fact, she had lost all of her senses except her sense of sight.
He bent down towards her, looking her in the eye, and Lauren noticed that he had some industrial-sized scissors in his gloved hand. Unable to react or show any fear, the immobilised agent could only watch as he cut away her trousers, her blouse, leaving her in her underwear. He flipped her over and her knickers were cut off as well as her bra. With her bra yanked off her, the agent was practically naked lying face down.
The Santa lifted her tofu-like arms and drew them together, binding her wrists and ankles together with some sort of rope. Her head was yanked up, and her parted her mouth to stuff something inside. It tasted of damp silk, and had she any feeling Lauren knew she would have retched, but instead she could only watch as the item was pushed part of the way inside and then she saw him paste several strips of tape against her lips. The Santa then lifted her over his shoulder and placed her down in an enormous box.
“Whtssgnnnn,” she managed to moan before he closed the lid of the box, and left her in darkness.
Minutes later, Lauren felt a warm tingling sensation as all her other senses came back. "MMMmmmpphhh!" "Mmmmmmpph!!!" she cried and struggled against her bonds. Her feet connected with the side of the box and she heard the thumping sound as she tried to raise the alarm.
“It’s coming from in here,” she heard a voice call out, and then the top of the box opened, several uniformed officers appearing as she glared up.
"Oh my gosh! She's nude!"
Lauren glared at them until they regained their senses and lifted her out of the box, one of them covering her with his jacket. As they peeled off her gag, a pair of knickers fell out – a pair of black micro panties, and definitely not hers.
“The girl – where is she?”
“No idea – we’re still working our way through the guests, bringing them round. Come on – we need to get you checked out. We’ll find her...”
The princess screamed as she looked up at Santa, her arms and legs spread as she was tied to the bedstead. She had been stripepd naked, save for her boots, and several layers of tape were holding a large pair of white panties in her mouth.
“Now you stay there – I’m going to call Daddy.”
Her muffled insults had no effect as he left the room, and removed the beard and glasses. Knocking out the lights had been child’s play, and then kidnapping her after the gas had knocked out the whole party even easier. He had taken great delight in lifting her, binding her arms and legs, but what to use as stuffing?
That was when he’d seen Lauren, and had his idea. The girl’s panties made good stuffing for Lauren, and his fellow agent;s panties went into the precious princess’ mouth.
“Stuff them all,” Freddie said as he went to the laptop, “I need a Christmas bonus...”