Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Back to the real world. More or less, anyway. Fame was no security against a visit from Santa Claus. There are quite a number of spoiled rotten celebrities that need a bit of Christmas correction. Rayleen Star was certainly one of them. She was talented, no doubt. She was also awful. Being rich and famous had not made her less jealous, it had made her more jealous. She was always trying to steal spotlights and take credit that wasn't due. She had abused underlings and most of all she had berated fans. Santa chose a time to strike several days before Christmas. Rayleen was at an event where certain lucky fans were allowed backstage. She was being pestered, as she saw it, by the rabble, and her nasty attitude was becoming more and more evident. Santa wasn't having that. When he arrived, Rayleen wasn't the biggest star in the room any more. She had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it seemed that all those obnoxious nobodies might leave her alone. On the other hand, she didn't want anyone stealing her spotlight. The people there were overjoyed at the sight of Saint Nick. He laughed his Ho Ho Ho and met them all merrily for a few minutes before he singled Rayleen out. "Even a naughty girl like you can help others have a Merry Christmas!" Rayleen wasn't really surprised to be called naughty. She was worried about having to sing Christmas songs or whatever other undignified hobnobbing the man had in mind. Santa told her, "It's time for an autograph session." Rayleen's shoulders sagged. She loved signing a single autograph, or even two or three, but to do it over and over again for person after person was so boring. She didn't resist the idea though, not at first anyway. When she asked for a pen, Santa corrected her, "No Rayleen today you'll be collecting the autographs." Santa pulled several dark black permanent markers from his bag. He passed them out to the fans. Then he had a list of names in a rough estimate of who had been the best behaved. The best would go last. First was a nice lady, but she was only nice in an average way. Santa ushered her over to the country singer. "Go ahead and put your autograph right here." He held Rayleen's wrist, extending her arm. "Hey!," Rayleen shouted as the marker made contact with her forearm. Santa warned her happily, "I've tied up plenty of naughty girls before. If you don't go along, I can do the same today." "You're not serious?" But there was no doubting Santa's sincerity, even when he said something that strange. She had to say, "Not everyone here is going to get to write on me are they?" "Of course they are. They're all on the nice list." Rayleen had to let three more people put their names on her arms before Santa moved on to some real fun. He pulled Raylee over to a short and pudgy guy in glasses. Santa asked him, "Wouldn't you like to put your autograph on Rayleen's ass?" Rayleen tried to pull away, but she couldn't. As a marker was handed to the lucky fan, his face lit up like a child getting the perfect present. Rayleen begged, "Don't let them do this! He can write on my arm, my back, even my face, but don't let him EEEEEEEEE!!!" Without even tearing the fabric, Santa pulled the designer skirt off of Rayleen's lower half. This let everyone see the sexy dark stockings and matching panties she had on. Santa knew that the autograph needed a better canvas though, so he tugged the panties up into a bun baring wedgie. Rayleen remembered the threat of being tied in place, so she tried to not to squirm as Santa bent her over. "Now leave room. At least six other names are going on these lovely cheeks." Santa smiled, the marker went to work and Rayleen groaned. She twitched when the marker first made contact with her skin, ruining the first letter, but past that she just fumed as she was forced to let this stranger write on her naked rear end. Santa wrapped his arm around her waist, carrying her butt forward to the next autographer. Rayleen was fumingly embarrassed, being carried around bare ass like that, but of course we all know that her trouble was just starting. Eight different names were written across that lovely, svelte derrierre. Most of them put a hand on her pretty curve as they wrote. A couple even took photos of their name, written there on bare celebrity skin. To that, Santa gave a stern warning, "You can keep the mementos, but not one will ever reach the media if you want to stay off my naughty list!" Considering what Rayleen was going through, that warning carried a lot of weight. Santa put her back down, and Rayleen tugged her underwear back to where it was supposed to be. "Stand like this," he said as he put her legs apart. Fans were then allowed to autograph her sexy legs, three at a time. It was all Rayleen could do to hold still, though she muttered a number of curses under her breath. After a dozen names were put on her legs, she thought it was over. She found out different when she picked up her skirt. Santa took it from her. "Ho Ho Ho! You don't need that! We're not finished yet!" Rayleen gave a hard sigh and a disgusted look, but she didn't complain out loud. Santa held up yet another marker as he said, "Danny Stanwitz, you get to put the first autograph on Rayleen's breasts." "What did he say?" Rayleen asked. When she caught his eye, Santa only grinned and nodded. This was more than Rayleen was going to sit still for. "NO!" She backed away and looked around for some escape. Her nervous movements were noticed by the elves that had accompanied Saint Nick. It was their happy job to restrain her if she decided to make a break for it. Once Rayleen started away, the elves were all around her. There was no escaping them. Happy little faces, seemingly harmless, were on every side. For a moment she thought that she could get past them, but with their magical speed and surprising strength, they carried her right back to the autograph hounds. She was put in a chair while she struggled, but there were eight different elves keeping her there, so it was a futile struggle. One of them held her arms up while another lifted all the clothes off of her upper body all at once. Just like that, like an impressive magic trick, she was bare breasted for a large group of her fans. A few photos snapped. "NO! Oh no, oh no!" She couldn't get out of her chair, and her arms were held down by the elves. All eyes were on her pretty, pretty tits. She was a slender bodied girl, and her tits were certainly smallish. Even being fairy narrow, she had a great figure of graceful, gentle, elegant curves. Her boobs, firm lovelies, had candy pink nipples that weren't dark, but almost appeared so on her fair skin. The fan that had been selected for the first titty autograph made his way to her almost shyly. He was a happy and smiling, nerdy guy. He actually apologized when he put the marker to her skin, "I'm really sorry about this, Miss Star. I love your music." His smile made the apology sound ridiculous even though it was half sincere. He stepped back and admired his name, his name, on the tits of this sexy, famous country singer. After a moment was spent of everyone enjoying the sight those pretty gems while Rayleen blushed and her eyes watered, the elves let her arms go. She clapped her hands on her tits and let out a scream of combined anger and humiliation. Santa beckoned her, "This way, Rayleen. Your lovely belly needs a name or two." She sheepishly walked to him with baby steps. While she stood there, hands on breasts and eyes shut tight, three people put their names around her belly button. One of them even added the words call me, with his phone number. Rayleen was speechless. She just let out the occasional whimper of humiliation or squeal of anger while the fans were allowed to scribble on her skin. A few names were put on her statuesque back. One on her shoulder. One on the side of her neck. One high up in the middle of her chest, but she didn't have to move her hands for that. The next one, however! Santa brought over another lucky trio of fans. "You've been very good this year, haven't you? Would you like to write your names on Raylee's tits?" Rayleen let out an exasperated complaint, "I get the point! I'll behave better! Just make them leave me alone now!" A cheerfully surly little elf told her, "Put your hands down, sweetheart." "I will not!" So that elf, along with three others, held her in place and moved her hands against her will. Again her smallish beauties were bared while three markers were brandished. "Ooo-OOooh! You people aren't real fans if you'll do this to me!" For a moment that had a real impact. Then one of them shrugged. "I can live with that." He stepped up, took her titty in his hand and got his marker ready. Rayleen cursed and shouted as she tried to pull free, moving around so that he couldn't write on her properly. The elves said, "We can hold you all day. Keep it up. Or you could just hold still and get it over with." So she did, but with a look of pure hatred on her face. That would have been a terrible sight, but the enforced nudity made it so comical that several people couldn't help laughing out loud. There it was, a second name adorning her bare breasts. That autographer pulled his cell phone out for a picture. Rayleen, struck with sheer terror, reminded him, "Santa says you can't put that on the internet!" Santa agreed with that, so the happy autographer had to ask, "Can I show my buddies at work? They'll never believe it otherwise." "Certainly." "NO!" Rayleen shouted. "Don't let anyone see! OH! This is terrible!" Even as she complained though, the next marker was put low on her left tit while her right tit was fondled. Rayleen fumed as a third name and a happy face were written on her naked tits. It was the most humiliating experience of her life. She was forced to allow name after name to be written onto her bare body. She stood or took whatever pose she was told while happy fans, nobodies in her eyes, took advantage of her nudity for their fun. After what seemed like forever, she had a lot of names on her legs. She had them on her butt, her hips, her abdomen, her back, her arms, shoulders and her chest. There was only one fan left though. For that she almost felt grateful. That last fan almost shivered with excitement. "Where do I get to put it Santa?" The elves urged Rayleen over by pulling her wrists. Santa grabbed her panties off with one magical motion. Rayleen didn't even realize what had happened at first. Then she gawked at her own beautiful little red furred muff. "OH! AAaAWHA! That's not fair! This is too much!" She didn't move though. She just started pouting and mumbling and complaining while everyone stared at her now totally naked body. There were cameras, compliments and laughs while Rayleen turned a wonderful shade of pink. She shut her eyes tight when she felt that marker start to touch right above her pretty, pretty red bush. He scribbled ever so slowly, drawing out the experience. When the signing was done, she felt the young man's timid fingers run up and down her pussy lips. When she heard Santa speak, her eyes opened again. He told her, "It might be hard for you to read, but along with his name it says, "This is your best performance"" She threw an evil glare at that last autographer. He grinned back, unable to hide his enjoyment. An elf told her, "Put your hands behind your head, your feet apart and throw your hip to one side." "What?" "It's photo time," Santa said happily. Plenty of photos had been taken already, but now it was time for her to pose. "NO! I won't do it!" An elf shrugged, "Okay, but we'll just tie you up and leave you here then." "You wouldn't!" "We would!" a lot of elves shouted in unison. So Rayleen had no choice. She adopted the prescribed pose. Once a lot of fans had a photo, she was made to turn around and bend over. After that, she was still bent over, but legs apart so everyone could see her pussy from behind. Several more shots were taken, all in different, sexy poses. At last, Santa let her get dressed, covering her nudity and many of the autographs. "Be nicer to your fans, Rayleen, or you might see Santa again next year!" "Ho ho ho," she said bitterly, avoiding eye contact with everyone.