There was a man on her bed. A nearly naked man too, a pair of tight briefs barely keeping him decent, and she had to say, he was in pretty damn good condition too, not so heavily muscled to be intimidating, but with nicely defined muscles, solid calves, biceps and pecs with the tracery of abs under the skin of his stomach. Someone who either had a physical job or worked out, but not to the point of extremes, he was still a nice slender shape.

What she could see of his face was nice too, he had soft blonde waves of hair and high cheekbones and a strong, although not hard jaw, but the rest of it what somewhat obscured by the black blindfold, which, with amusement, she noticed was a Harry Potter sleepmask, black and fluffy with the eyes and beak of a niffler picked out over his eyes, and the gag wrapped over his lower face. This was much less makeshift, a sturdy panel gag strapped tightly in place

More straps, also black leather secured him all over, more braceletting his wrists and ankles, securely clipped to each other, so that he was effectively hogtied, more straps holding his forearms together, and another holding his upper arms tightly to his chest. His thighs were also strapped to his calves, holding them tightly bent back. Lying face down on his stomach, his blindfolded face to one side, he certainly made a tidy package.

Initially, she thought he was asleep, because of his relaxed posture and low easy breathing, but as she had opened the door, his breathing had hitched, and his ears had moved backwards slightly. She hesitated in the doorway, hand still on the doorknob, frozen in place. Was this some kind of weird joke? Had one of her friends talked one of their friends into it, I mean, it was hardly a secret in her circle that she liked this kind of things, her D&D character’s preferred weapon was a bullwhip and her nickname had been ‘Trix’ (short for dominatrix) for the best part of a decade now.

She looked around the room, but, asides from the wardrobe, there was nowhere to hide, so that seemed to rule out some-one leaping out with a phone to record her being a kinky bitch, and she couldn’t imagine her mates going to all the effort of buying decent bondage gear either – although, the sleep mask, that was definitely a personal touch. Some-one who knew her – and knew how to get into her house. She had noticed that the cover on her key-safe by the front door hadn’t been quite straight, but had put that down to her mum popping by. She probably ought to change the code…

She walked slowly forwards, her footsteps barely making a sound on the thick carpet, keeping her eyes on him. He slowly stirred, squirming against the straps, giving a soft little moan that made her heart skip slightly and teased a wicked smile onto her face.

“Well, well,” She said quietly, watching him jump slightly. “What on earth are you doing here?”

She put a knee on the bed and ran a fingertip slowly down from the nape of his neck, down the ridge of muscle in his back, down over his arms, then gently flicked the elastic waistband of his underwear. He gave another low moan and she grinned again. Putting her hands on his upper arms, she could feel the tension of the muscles and wondered how long he’d been there. Taking pity on him, but only a little bit, she unclipped the carabiner holding his ankles to his wrists and released him from the hogtie, feeling the heavy sigh of relief running through him. Taking a firm grip on his upper arm, she rolled him onto his side and saw something move.

A piece of thin satin ribbon was hung around his neck with a gift tag attached. She picked it up and flicked it over. It had been typed, which she found instantly suspicious. It told her that she must have known.

To Trix, it’s a bit late to be a Secret Santa, so consider this your New Year’s present. He’s been an admirer of yours for a long time, so I thought I’d help things along. Enjoy! The Spirit of New Year.

“An admirer?” She repeated with a slight laugh.

She stroked a finger down his neck.

“Since when did I get admirers?” She asked him lightly.

He squirmed again, almost trying to bury himself into the coverlet and she caught his arm.

“Oh no you don’t,” She flipped him onto his back and leapt ontop of him.

With casual assurance she straddled his waist, running her hands over his stomach.

“So, darling,” she said brightly, gently bouncing slightly and trying to resist a giggle. “Are you my admirer?”

He hesitantly nodded and her grin stretched.

“So, admirer,” She said lightly. “Now’s your one and only shot, your red pill, blue pill moment.” She did actually let a laugh escape now. “This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You nod now - the story ends, I let you off the bed and out the house and you believe whatever you want to believe. You shake your head - you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember: all I'm offering is a good time this evening. Nothing more.”

She laughed again as he shook his head.

“Wakey wakey then,” She commanded, running her palms firmly down his chest and taking a grip on his shoulders. “Because this is going to be a white knuckle ride.”