Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Not everyone on the naughty list is wealthy, of course.  You don't need
money to be nasty.  A good example is Charlotte Mopper, who works cleaning
houses.  What has she done to deserve Santa's punishment?  When she cleans,
she removes all traces of dust and dirt and clutter.  She also sometimes
removes things like wallets and jewelry.  In fact, even though it was the
day before Christmas Eve, the naughty Miss Mopper was hard at work, lifting
a few extra valuables to pay her Christmas bills.

   She had pulled it off again.  It was clear that she was going to make
another clean get away until she got to the door.  The bell rung, so she
opened it to see an unexpected visitor.  She did a double take, but then
she was as certain as anyone was.  "Santa Claus?"

   From the hallway, her employer asked, "Who is it, Charlotte?"

   "It - it's Santa Claus."

   "Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas, Dane."

   "Merry Christmas," Dane returned.

   "M-merry Christmas," Charlotte repeated.  Santa had her wrist in his
hand.  Charlotte was now desperate to be out the door before being
discovered.  Of course that wasn't going to happen.

   "Dane," Santa said, "an early Christmas present this year will be your
wife's sapphire necklace.  Among other things."

   "What?"

   With fast motions, Santa pulled Charlotte to him, wrapped an arm around
her waist, and turned her upside down.  Along with shocking her beyond the
ability to speak, her skirt fell so that her nice pink panties were
showing. More important than that was the fact that everything she had
stolen was falling out of her clothes, one by one.  A couple pieces of
jewelry and some cash.

   "Charlotte!" Dane shouted.  "What is the meaning of this?"

   She was still upside down when she pleaded, "Mister Metcalf, I can
explain!"

   "Oh I can't wait to hear this."

   Santa turned her back over and set her on her feet.  She looked back and
forth from one accusing face to the other.  She was at a complete loss for
words.  It turned out that she couldn't explain.  She couldn't think of a
single thing to say in her defense.  "I suppose I'm fired."

   "Ho Ho NO!" Santa said.  "You'll never steal again.  Not after your
naughty girl punishment."

   "P-punishment?"

   "Punishment?" Mr.  Metcalf said eagerly.

   Santa explained, "Since she's taken from you, you'll get to take from
her.  Specifically, you can take her clothes off of her."

   "What?" "WHAT!?"

   "What's going on?" asked a new voice.

   Charlotte hoped she could get out of this.  "Mrs.  Metcalf, Santa wants
your husband to take my clothes off!  Are you going to let him?"

   Mr.  Metcalf calmly explained, "She was caught stealing from us.  She
had some of your jewelry."

   "Is that right?  Well then dear, do you need any help getting this
little thief naked?"

   "Mrs.  Metcalf no!" Charlotte couldn't believe the happy venom in the
woman's eyes.

   "Can we do it now?" Dane asked eagerly.

   "Go ahead," Santa said.  He stepped back to watch the show as Mr.  and
Mrs.  Metcalf grabbed ahold of Charlotte by her uniform.  Charlotte shouted
out "No!" over and over, but they wouldn't stop.  She tried to break away,
but her employers were on either side of her, easily able to keep her where
she was.  Buttons came undone, a few rips happened at various seams.  Then,
much to Charlotte's horror, her uniform was moving down her body past her
shoulders.  Her nice black bra came into view.  She was even complimented
on it as her clothes kept decending.  "Very nice taste you have." "Your
body looks better out of those clothes.  Why do you wear something like
that to hide it?"

   Charlotte raged, but to no avail.  She was reduced to her bra and panty
before she managed to slip away from the happy hands that removed her
clothing.  She only got a few steps though before Santa had her.  He was
faster than she could see, and she was held there, squirming desperately to
get away.  "Stop it!  Don't let them do this to me!"

   Santa let out his famous laugh as he turned her in place, never letting
her go.  Her rear end, glorious in tight panties, was facing Mr.  and Mrs.
Metcalf.  "Ho Ho Ho!  I think this little thief needs a bit of a spanking!"

   "NO!  NO!  You can't do that!  I quit!  I'll never come back!"

   "You quit?" Mr.  Metcalf said.  "Don't you know that you're already
fired?  But first," he gave a smack to her pantied ass that made her
squeal. Then he did it again and again.  He loved the feel of it, and he
loved watching the way her luscious buns quivered a bit with each spank.

   "Stop it!  Stop it!  I'll never steal again!  I promise!"

   After Mr.  Metcalf had given her a two dozen or so enjoyable swats, Mrs.
Metcalf had a turn.  She swatted the naughty maid a few times before she
grabbed the waistband of her panties.  Charlotte panicked as her feet
kicked helplessly.  "No!  Don't do that!  EEeeEEeeEEEE!" Her panties were
pulled down to reveal her spectacularly curved buns.  Charlotte continued
to struggle, but Santa just held her there like a package under his arm. 
Charlotte felt the indignation of a continued spanking from both Mrs. 
Metcalf and Mr.  Metcalf again when he decided he had to have a hand in the
bare bottom spanking.  Charlotte cried a sputtered a bit when she felt his
hand calmly take a few soft but determined gropes of her bare ass.

   Once Santa set her down, Charlotte angrily pulled her panties back up.
She was about to start shouting, but Santa quickly grabbed her waistband,
yanking them back down.  "Those panties stay down, Charlotte."

   Charlotte's look of horror was priceless.  While she had been spanked,
it was only her butt that was bared.  Santa had pulled her panties down to
midthigh, baring her wonderful beaver.  Her hair was brunette, neither
light nor dark.  Her bush was almost the same color, but a shade or two
lighter.  It wasn't long or short, and it covered a pretty good area
without being too much.  All of that detail was taken in the moment it was
exposed.  In the next moment Charlotte had her hands in front of it.  With
a scarlet face, she shrieked, "Why are you doing this to me?"

   "Because you're a thief," Santa explained.  "You steal even more around
Christmas.  I can't have that.  But Dane and Lillian don't have to fire
you. You'll never steal again."

   "Are you certain about that, Santa?" Lillian asked.

   "It'll take bit more than this, but she'll get the message.  A nice
couple like you deserves good help, and that's what she'll be from now on."

   Dane and Lillian certainly didn't feel nice, considering how fast they
had taken part in Charlotte's spanking, but then again, they had been
missing a few things for some time.  They knew she deserved it.  So they
didn't feel too much guilt when Santa pulled Charlotte's hands away, baring
her lovely brown bush for them again.  In fact, Lillian said, "I'm going to
get the video camera.  If that's okay, Santa."

   "Of course it is, Lillian."

   Charlotte couldn't believe she had heard that.  "What?  No it's not! 
Come back here!" Charlotte covered her pussy again.

   In a few minutes Mrs.  Metcalf was back, camera in hand.  "Smile,
Charlotte."

   "Turn that off!"

   "Let me see it."

   "Go to hell!" But she had no choice.  Mr.  Metcalf grabbed her wrists
and pulled them away.  For a brief moment her brown bush was camera fodder.
Then she dropped to the ground.  "No No No No No No NO!" She wanted to just
stay huddled there on the floor but Mr.  Metcalf and Santa both lifted her
by the arms, holding her in place.  "You can't do this!  Just call the
cops!"

   Everyone laughed.  Charlotte was actually willing to risk jail time
rather than endure this exposure.  Or was she?  Never taking the camera off
the naughty cleaning woman, Mrs.  Metcalf said, "Oh we'll call the police,
but not until we're done."

   "What?  NO!  Okay, I'll let you see!" Charlotte stood up straight and
red faced, but she no longer resisted as the camera drank in the sight of
her gorgeous triangle.

   "Let me get a close up." The camera zoomed in and moved around that
body. Santa made Charlotte turn around to show her bare ass off.  She did
everything Mrs.  Metcalf said.  She bent over.  She put her legs apart. 
She tried to smile, though she could only do that for a moment.  "A-all
right, can I go now?"

   "We're just starting," Santa said.

   "No."

   But then Santa whisked off her bra, baring her pretty, straight ahead
mediums.  Mr.  Metcalf was surprised.  He had noticed that Charlotte was
attractive, but he was surprised at how good she looked naked.  "Great
tits."

   "Shut up!" She moved her hand up, then down, then up, then down.  She
knew that she wouldn't be allowed to cover, so she tried not to give them
the satisfaction of making her put her hands down.  She stood there,
defiantly naked for their wide eyes.

   Mrs.  Metcalf circled in place, getting those gems from different
angles. Once they had their fill of her nudity, Santa picked the
unfortunate cleaning woman up again.  She shouted, "What are you doing?"
Then she was stuffed unceremoniously into Santa's bag.

   "Ho Ho Ho!  I've got to be off.  Charlotte has other people to see!"

   Mr.  and Mrs.  Metcalf waved happily.  "Good by Santa!  Merry
Christmas!"

   Charlotte found herself in complete darkness, but she felt no
discomfort. In fact, inside of Santa's bag it was warm and soft and felt
safe.  She calmed down a good deal when she realized just cozy it was. 
Then the bag was opened and the light poured in.  She felt Santa pull her
out of the bag quickly.  "Where am I?  Mr.  Rooney?" She was in the home of
another of her customers.  Not long ago she had stolen a few twenty dollar
bills, a pair of cuff links and just for kicks, also a couple of his
baseball cards.  "Oh no." That realization wasn't as bad as realizing what
she was wearing.  She had come out of Santa's bag wearing nothing but broad
bands of Christmas ribbon around her breasts and on her lower body in the
shape of scanty panties.  "AaAh!" A bit of her brown bush was showing above
those ribbon panties, so she shot one hand down over that.  "M-mister
Rooney.  I, uh, I guess I have to - Santa, what do I have to do?"

   Santa held out a hand filled with the stolen items belonging to Mr. 
Rooney.  "Charlotte took these from your home two days ago.  I'm here to
return them, and Charlotte is here to make amends for taking them in the
first place."

   Mr.  Rooney wasn't certain how to respond.  "Uh, I guess as long as I
have it back, it's okay."

   "Don't be ridiculous," Santa said.  "You get to unwrap Charlotte before
she goes."

   Mr.  Rooney was happy to hear that.  "Oh yeah?"

   "No!" Charlotte said.  "No, you don't need to do that.  I'll clean your
place free of charge for three months!  Just don't do this!" Her promise
didn't matter.  She was made to stand there, arms up to make it easy to
remove the ribbons.  "Santa!  Do you really have to do this?" She felt like
she might hyperventilate as she felt the ribbon come loose from around her
boobs.  Her boobs popped free dramatically and beautifully.  "OH!  Oh oh
oh!" She couldn't hold still.  She bounced up and down wonderfully.  She
looked right at Mr.  Rooney's eyes, but his eyes weren't moving from her
pretty little pointy nipples.

   "Now let's get this lower ribbon off."

   "NO!" Charlotte threw her hands over her lower body.  Before she even
knew what had happened though, another magical ribbon had her hands bound
behind her back.  "Aah!" Then, with one quick motion, Mr.  Rooney slipped
the knot at her hip free.  Just like that the ribbons over her lower half
fell gently to the floor.  Charlotte shrieked.  "I'm naked again!  I'm
naked!  OH!  This isn't fair!"

   "Well we've got more houses to visit," Santa said.

   "Bye, Charlotte," Mr.  Rooney said as he watched Santa stuff her back
into the bag.

   When Charlotte saw light again she was pulled out of the bag, again clad
in some ribbons that covered her essentials but nothing else.  "Oh, damn
it. Not Barney."

   Santa held out a handful of money to the chubby little guy.  "Thanks
Santa.  Did she take my Glory Guild collector figures?"

   "She did.  Here they are Barney."

   Barney was happy to see his prized set of rare action figures pulled out
of Santa's bag.  They were so important to him that he no longer had eyes
for the ribbon clad beauty who had stolen them.  She crossed her arms and
gave a sour pout.  "I couldn't sell those stupid things anyway."

   Santa saw that Barney was more interested in the figures, so he fixed
that.  "Now, Barney, Charlotte will be happy to let you unwrap her."

   "NO!  Not again Santa!  Not this guy!"

   Barney had to make sure he understood.  "You mean, like, take her
ribbons off?"

   "No, Barney," she said.  "That's not what he meant."

   "Sure it was," Santa said.  "Hold still, Charlotte."

   "No!  Let me back in the bag!" She actually tried to dive back into the
bag.  Santa was too fast for that, catching her so softly that she almost
didn't feel it.  As she was put back on her feet and held in place by Santa
she screamed in rage.  Then Barney gave a tug to the bow at the front of
her chest.  Her scream of rage turned into a high pitched scream of
embarrassment.  She couldn't even manage to get out any real words.  She
just made delightful sounds of humiliation.  Of course Barney finished the
job, relieving her of the rest of her ribbons.

   "You look real good naked, Charlotte.  Can I take a picture, Santa?"

   "Of course you can."

   "NO!" But when Santa let her go, Charlotte was surprised to find that
her hands were tied back with more of that terrible ribbon.  She heard the
camera as it took photos of her nakedness.  She tried to turn away from it,
keeping one leg up to at least protect her pussy.  They let her get by with
that for a bit since the embarrassed poses were so sexy.  Then Santa held
her place firmly, demanding that she let everything be seen.  Charlotte
gulped and scrunched her eyes shut as the camera got a good shot of
everything she wanted to hide.

   After he took his own shots, Barney asked to have his picture taken with
her.  Santa took over the camera work as Barney put an arm around
Charlotte's waist.  The photos would feature his big, dopey grin and her
delightful little pout.  A handful of pictures were taken of the two of
them.  Charlotte felt his hand on her ass more than once.  For the last
couple photos, Santa suggested, "Cop a feel of her tits, Barney."

   "SURE THING!"

   "NO!  Stop that!  Santa don't take a picture of that!  Damn it!" As much
as she squirmed and protested, it didn't stop the camera or the wandering
hands.  After another handful of pictures were taken (handful, get it?),
Charlotte was stuffed back in the bag.

   Everything she had that she had not sold or spent was returned.  House
by house five more stops were made.  Each time Charlotte had her ribbons
removed and then, when the people there were high up enough on the nice
list, she was subjected to the added embarrassment of feel ups, photos or
spankings.

   The last house she was taken to belonged to a happy old man who was
saved for last because he was the nicest of Charlotte's victims.  He had
made a practice of large donations and philanthropy.  There was even a
local charity that he had started.  Charlotte slumped yet again when she
was pulled out of the bag.  "Mr.  Nedwell."

   "Charlotte," he said.  He squinted at her a few moments before he
decided that he might just try to avoid noticing how little she was
wearing.

   Santa told him, "No no, Irving, you're supposed to gawk at Charlotte. 
She's on the naughty list, so to make up for it, she has been a Christmas
present to everyone she has stolen from this season."

   "Stolen?" he asked.

   From his bag Santa pulled out a few small pieces of art and some credit
cards.  Mr.  Nedwell realized only in that moment that he had not misplaced
these things.  "You took all this from me, Charlotte?  Why on earth would
you take my TV remote?"

   Santa told him, "Just to be mean, I imagine."

   Charlotte managed to ignore Mr.  Nedwell's stare for a moment by asking,
"What did you do to this place anyway?"

   "Nothing," the bewildered old man said.  "A bunch of strange little guys
broke in and made a hell of a mess in every room."

   Santa let out his famous laugh.  "Those were my elves.  Your home was
just too clean.  We had to have something for Charlotte to clean up."

   "Oh.  Is she going to?"

   "Sure," Charlotte said bitterly, "why not?" The truth was that she felt
some relief.  This might be a punishment to most, but it was what she did
for a living and it beat the hell out of being stripped naked for another
of her clients.

   "Of course she'll do it naked," Santa said.

   "Really?" Mr.  Nedwell said.

   Charlotte's shoulders slumped like a child throwing a fit.

   Santa said, "Just give these ribbons a tug.  They come right off."

   Charlotte knew that if there were one person that might show mercy it
would be this man.  "M-mister Nedwell, you don't have to do that.  I mean,
I know I might have - AAAH!" Even though it had happened already a number
of times it was still humiliating to have someone just peel her outfit off.

   "Beautiful!" Mr.  Nedwell said.  "Your tits are magnificent, Charlotte!
And that bush is sublime!"

   Charlotte put one hand coyly over that bush.  She wanted to get this
over with.  "Where do I start?" She was made to clean the house room by
room.  For the most part it was just straightening and picking up bits of
garbage.  She did have to do some dusting and vacuuming.  She also had to
do some dishes by hand.  To make it worse the whole thing was video taped.
Santa didn't want Mr.  Nedwell to miss out, so he handled the camera
himself.  Mr.  Nedwell enjoyed the show immensely, always hovering close,
saying things like, "You missed a spot." "Bend over a bit more while you
pick that up." "This video would be a great advertisement for you." "Wait,
hold still.  I just want to look you over a moment."

   Making it worse, the old man became bolder and bolder with the little
liberties he would take.  In the very first room Charlotte cleaned he gave
her bare behind a little pat.  That became more frequent until she was
getting squeezes, pats and pinches every couple minutes.  By the time the
cleaning was finished Mr.  Nedwell's hands had also found her tits again
and again.

   When she had the job finished, she stood there looking completely
defiant except for a slightly quivering jaw.  "I'm done.  Can I get dressed
now?"

   "For now," Santa said.  "First sign this."

   Charlotte saw Santa pull some document out of his bag.  She only got a
glimpse of it before Santa had it covered except for the line where she was
to put her name.

   "Can't I read it first?"

   "No."

   Charlotte shook her head angrily.  What else was there they could do to
her?  She signed her name and felt a chill.  "There.  Now what is that?"

   "It's a contract.  A magical contract.  I can't always be here, so I
need something to make certain you don't forget to stay off the naughty
list.  You won't be able to resist the power of this contract.  Whether you
want to or not, you'll do as it says.  Hold on to this Irving."

   Charlotte felt a growing dread.  "What does it say?"

   "When you come to clean Irving's house, you will always do it naked."

   "What?"

   "Really?" Mr.  Nedwell said.

   "Now would you like a lift home?" Santa said.
   Charlotte mumbled, "Can I stay out of that damn bag at least?"