Fiction

1
Honey Bunny: An Easter Tale
2
Santa Babe 2: Elfsurrection
3
Displaced
4
Santa Babe
5
Devil’s Due (Revised)
6
Facades: A Christmas Tale
7
Gend-O-Matic
8
The Bureau
9
Of Princes and Princesses
10
Devil’s Due (Original)

Honey Bunny: An Easter Tale

Author's Note

This tale is set in the same story universe as both of my Santa Babe stories, but can be read as a standalone. Like those stories it is a bit more graphic and fetishy than my usual stuff. This time around, the story features Anthropomorphic rabbits, basically Easter Bunnies who transform (more or less) into humans. It also contains very light female domination.

“Jack.” Peter rolled his eyes, speaking with a forced almost condescending tone, a fat hand motioning with a broad sweeping gesture. “I get where you’re coming from, I really do, but children these days don’t care about this stuff.” The other rabbit lifted the egg from the display stand, fingering it idly, a frown, or a close approximation of one, creasing his short snout and tossed it into the waste bin beside his desk.

I leaned back in my seat and rocked my head back and forth, fighting hard to keep my anger from showing on my face. Egg-painting had become something of a lost art among the bunnies of the Spring Valley Warren. It was a tragedy we’d been so quick to discard our traditions to appease the humans.

My father would be hanging his head in shame if he were alive to see Peter, his chosen successor, disregard our people’s ancient customs with such callous indifference. It was too bad I’d been so uninterested in succeeding my father in my youth. Perhaps things would be different if I had followed in his footsteps like he wanted me to.

“I realize your dad was into this stuff and I understand you want to honor him, but we’re in the business of bringing happiness and joy to all the children of this region. That is particularly important with this pandemic that is spreading all over the world.”

I folded my arms across my chest and sighed.

We were just one conclave of Easter bunnies. Though we possessed a modicum of magic, it wasn’t quite on the scale of our Christmas counterpart, the Santa Claus. We couldn’t freeze time, or travel at rocket speeds. Instead, we traversed The Burrows, a system of magical tunnels capable of transporting us substantial distances in a fraction of time. It was one thing to send a bunny from Germany to Bavaria, it was another matter to send one clear across the Atlantic Ocean.

When the Easter traditions spread to the Americas, our brothers and sisters in Europe became overwhelmed by the demands for their services. So our ancestors founded new warrens, each with their own ‘Easter Bunny’ calling the shots and overseeing the operations of the entire warren. Though humans couldn’t distinguish the difference between a helper bunny and our exalted leader, in our case Peter, no rabbit of the warren would dare refer to themselves as The Easter Bunny, we were mere helpers.

“Look, would you just drop this shit and get back to work? Easter is less than a week away and we have a deadline to meet.” Peter adjusted his reading glasses and returned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk. In his mind, he’d already dismissed me. I supposed I should be thankful. Most times he yelled at me. Compared to our previous encounters, this one was downright friendly.

I rose to my feet, collecting the display stand and my basket of eggs, then retreated from the office, head hanging between my shoulders. This was not my first attempt at trying to revive our people’s egg-painting traditions, and it had been no less successful than the previous ones. This time, I had taken months learning and honing my skills, hoping that a demonstration might sway Peter better than words had, but as usual he’d been more interested in deadlines and paperwork.

I cursed myself and retreated home. My work shift would begin in less than an hour and if I wasn’t on the factory floor, there would be hell to pay. The other rabbit was a stickler for tardiness and I still needed to complete a few tasks at home.

Work was sure to be hell, I doubt I’d heard the last from Peter. Even on the best days, he bullied and demeaned me. I was, after all, his favorite target.

“Hey Jack,” a sweet feminine voice spoke out of the fog of my funk and my head jerked up, eyes focusing to find a familiar face staring back at me.

“Hey Esther,” I glanced up at her, a long plaintive sigh escaping my mouth.

Esther worked for the Inter-warren Postal Service, and my place was the last on her route, so I frequently ran into her on the way home from work.

“Bad day on the production line?” Esther asked, hand grappling inside of her mail bag.

That was an understatement, Peter had been on my ass from the moment I stepped out on the floor. He’d gotten me so self-conscious I’d gotten the mixture wrong on one of the machines and ruined an entire batch of chocolates. Peter had erupted in a fit of rage, humiliating me in front of the entire factory floor. I was lucky he hadn’t fired me on the spot, but then he would have lost his favorite little punching bag. Instead, he docked my pay and put me at the top of the overtime list for the next three weeks.

I peered around, realizing that I was just a few doors down from my place. I’d been pretty much on autopilot since the fiasco at work, and my walk home through the tunnels had been no exception. My eyes settled on each of the brightly decorated holes, festooned with the bright pastel colors of Easter, and sighed when my eyes fell on my home. Caught up with my egg painting I’d neglected decorating my place which, I doubt, would win me friends with any of my neighbors.

“Uh,” I scratched my neck, doing my best to avoid making eye contact with Esther.

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you went to Peter about the eggs, again.”

“Guilty,” I grimaced, dropping both my hands and cupping my face.

She sighed and reached out to pull my hands away from my face. “Okay, tell you what. Why don’t I come over tonight? I can cook you a nice homemade meal and we can have a long chat and I’ll help you forget all about it.” A coy smile spread over her muzzle and she raised a single eyebrow as her fingers traced over my chest.

I froze, mouth agape, and stood there like a jack ass. Esther was a friend, a good one, but I’d never considered her to be anything else. I never thought of her that way, even if I had, I doubt I would have worked up the nerve to ask her out.

She raised an open palm, tilted my chin up, forced my mouth closed and smiled. “Well?”

“Uh, yeah sure,” I replied letting loose a nervous little chuckle.

“Great!” She beamed. “I’ll be over say, eight?”

I nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. She turned to leave, then turned back, reaching inside of her bag. “Hey, you don’t mind saving me a few steps and taking your mail now do you?

I nodded, smacking my lips. My mouth seemed just a little dry. She slipped my mail into my hands and leaned in to peck me on the cheeks. She didn’t say another word, but winked at me and started walking away. I watched her depart, her nice hips swaying as she walked. I swallowed, and started back toward my place, numb to everything but the memory of her lips on my cheek.

Not until I got back home did I realize I was holding a christmas-red package about eight-inches long, about half as wide and deep and pretty damned hefty. I set the envelopes down on the counter and eyed the package, examining the flowing script on the tag.

Samson, I mused, eying the box. A few years back, the Santa Claus and Samson, one of his helper elves, paid a visit to our little burrow on a diplomatic visit, and the old man had spent most of the trip in an out of the way drinking hole on the other side of the warren, blind stinking drunk. I’d had the unfortunate privilege of spending his entire trip babysitting the miserable old bastard.

The only plus side was I’d gotten to know Samson and he seemed like a pretty stand-up guy. We’d corresponded when possible and gotten to be friends. It had been a while since I’d heard from the wry little elf, but it appeared he’d at last gotten around to answering my last letter.

The return label was written in a flourishing script I recognized as the elf’s, but oddly he’d signed it Sammie Twinklebottom instead of Samson, and it looked a little more bubbly and feminine then I remembered. Still, I didn’t think much of it at the time, my thoughts still on Esther.

I plopped the box atop the counter, pulled the ribbon and tape off and popped it open to reveal two liquid-filled bottles nestled within. The fluid inside the first of the odd rectangular containers was baby blue and the other, a soft powder-pink. Though I didn’t take time to read the letter in the sealed envelope wedged between the pair of bottles, I had a good idea what they contained.

Knowing Samson, I guessed it to be some kind of liqueur, the elves loved their spirits and they liked them sweet. During Santa’s first day at the bar, Samson spent twenty minutes complaining about the old man’s alcoholism while sneaking sips of something sweet smelling from his flask. He was an odd fellow to be sure, but I’d enjoyed his company.

The trouble was his taste in beverages, were just a tad sweet for my tastes and considering I devoted most of my days to filling chocolates into molds that said something. I pulled the bottles from the box, and slipped them inside the cupboard, retrieved the envelope with Samson’s letter and tossed the box into the garbage pail which was heaped so high, the package just tumbled to the ground.

I winced, peering around at my pig sty of a kitchen. A mixed assortment of cooking and egg-painting implements covered most of the counter space and about half of the tabletop and the sink was so full of dirty dishes I’d pretty much given up on using the faucet for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d swept or done the dishes, but it had been at least a month. Needless to say, I had my work cut out for me.

I sighed, shaking my head. Already forming a plan. My mental checklist of chores supplanted thoughts of the package and it slipped from my mind.

I didn’t read the note until much later and by then it was too late. As much as I enjoyed the cranky elf’s letters, Samson tended to be a bit of a windbag. If I knew then what I know now, things would have turned out a fair bit different.

I retreated to my room, dropping the letter on my night stand, and retrieved a spare set of clothes, tossed them into the bathroom and got to work cleaning. I’d need to hurry if I were to get everything cleaned and still have time for a shower.

“Hey.” Esther stood in the doorway, paper sack clutched in both hands. I stared, jaw going slack. She wore a rather simple skirt and blouse combination. The entire time I’d known her, which had been most of my life, I hadn’t once seen her wear anything so feminine. Though it was simple, it looked good on her, and hugged her curves in interesting ways.

“Jack? You gonna ask me in?” She leaned forward, glancing through the doorway.

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” I mumbled stepping back and motioned forward with an exaggerated sweeping gesture. “Come in.”

I forced a smile and she pressed her lips together, slipping past me and dropped the bag onto the counter. She turned back to me, pulling a strand of snowy-white hair from her eyes and collecting it behind her ears. “Listen, Jack, I know I sort of threw you through a loop today. I wanted you to know that I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. You’re the only guy who’s ever treated me right, and this whole time you’ve been right there. I-I just thought maybe…”

She trailed off, all wide-eyed uncertainty. I nodded, and moved up beside her, slipping both hands over either of her shoulders. “I-I was a little flustered, I admit, but ever since you invited yourself over, all I’ve been able to think about is you. It’s funny how something can stare you right in the eyes, and it takes a proverbial slap in the face before you finally notice.”

She smiled and nodded, leaning in for a kiss. This time, it was more than a simple peck and lasted seconds, but boy did it leave me wanting more. She cleared her throat and pulled away. “Uh, well, I guess I should get started.”

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood and watched her get to work. Esther was pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way, but a far cry from what most bunnies would consider beautiful. Her figure was too round, her snow-white fur a bit too dull, and her ears always seemed to tilt at an odd angle. That being said, I’d never found a female more attractive in my life. She had such energy, a girlish vitality that had never faded as she aged, though she was now a few months shy of thirty. She was kind, generous and open-minded, and I added, she had great legs and not to mention a nice set of cans. It felt odd thinking about her that way, but once I started looking, I couldn’t unsee it nor did I want to.

“So, um I don’t know what you had planned for drinks, but that package that came today had something I thought maybe you’d enjoy.” I moved to the cupboard where I’d left the bottles sent by Samson and slipped a hand inside blindly grabbing one from within the cupboard. Esther turned away, now rifling through her bag, and I glanced down at the bottle of pink fluid clutched in my hands. I felt a pang of disappointment, but I suppose it was for the best. Despite being a notorious tomboy, she always went for the girliest drinks.

She swung back toward me, a bundle of carrots and greens clenched in either hand, gave me an appraising look, then stuck her chin out toward the bottle.

“All I had time to grab was some Carrot Schnapps. So, yeah, we can try it. Might be interesting, why don’t you pop it open. It might help us loosen up a bit.”

The words seem innocuous enough, but she spoke them with a sensuous, husky quality to her voice that gave the statement a whole different meaning. I swallowed, fixing a hand over the stopper and pulled, almost hitting myself in the face with the back of my hand when it came loose.

She slipped her hand around the bottle, and I released my hold, allowing her to take it. She brought it up to her nose, taking a good long whiff before locking her lips around it, threw her head back and took a good long gulp.

When she at last dropped the bottle from her lips, wiping them clean with the back of her arm, she held it out to me. I swallowed, harder this time, and took it from her hands. I mimed her earlier motions, sniffing the concoction, and stopped pursing my lips.

Aside from the strong scent of alcohol which burned my nostrils, it was if someone had taken everything soft and feminine and bottled it as a liquid, it was flowery and fruity and sugary, but there was something more to it which I couldn’t identify. When I smelled it, I thought of a beautiful sex-goddess of a woman, breasts heaving as she drew in breath and hips swaying with each step. My heart pounded in my rib cage and I hesitated. Something was weird about the whole situation. I don’t think Samson would send me anything poisonous, but it raised the hackles on my neck. I started to set the bottle back down, but then I locked gazes with Esther. She arched an eyebrow and cocked a smile as if to say, ‘Oh, come on, stop being so silly.’

I exhaled, then brought the bottle to my mouth,chugged it until my throat burned and slapped it on the countertop. It was everything I expected, sweet, fruity and every bit as strong as whiskey.

Esther hunched over, and I lurched toward her. A wave of dizziness washed over me and braced I myself against the counter before I could reach her.

She fell forward, hands thrown up at the last moment, fur now falling from her skin in patches.

Oh god. What was going on?

I scrambled forward, still spinning, but leveraged myself and dropped to my knees beside her. She peered up, and my breath caught in my throat. Not a single shred of hair remained on her face. She groaned as the skin around her muzzle rippled and contorted. I reached out, but a loud crack reverberated through my wrist and I cradled it against my chest, raw hot pain pulsating up and down my arm.

I threw my right arm out, tearing the sleeve of my shirt up my arm, in time to see chunks of brown fur fall away in clumps. It was no coincidence that it was happening to me too. That strange concoction must be to blame. I shuddered, a pit forming in my stomach, thinking back to the feminine aromas that had emanated from the drink.

Flesh bubbled and stretched, reshaping wherever the fur fell away. The bones in my hand popped, my palm becoming a little less rounded, my fingers thinned out and lengthened. Claws crunched, spreading out, flattening to become fingernails. My shoulder popped and I dropped my hand. I hunched over, howling in pain, my insides roiling. I wanted to scream, but the best I manage between stabs of pain was a soft miserable moan.

My chest tingled and I brought my hands up, the transformed one looking quite dainty and very human, the other was unchanged, but a quick look at Esther told me all I needed to know. She peered back at me with a human face, panting between a set of pouty lips, breasts heaving with each breath.

A sickening crack sounded inside my ribs and I tore the front of my blouse open. I watched with wide-eyes as two mounds rose from my now hairless flesh. I shuddered, panting and heaving, groaning with each pop that sounded through my insides.

I clenched my eyes shut, too terrified to watch the remaining changes, but while I didn’t see them, I felt the bones snap and reforming inside of me. My other shoulder crunched, and my eyelids flew back open as I gasped for breath. When my hips changed, they each snapped with such force it vibrated through my whole body.

The tissue of my left arm continued to mold and reshape, but I managed to fling my right hand between my legs, feeling for familiar contours through the crotch and legs of my jeans. My manhood remained intact, but I doubted that it would stick around for much longer. I traced my fingers along my hips and waistline. The former seemed so huge! It seemed so out of place. The latter felt so narrow, so dainty, I could have easily wrapped one arm around it before my transformation.

Then it came, a sharp jab of pain and a pulling sensation in my nether region. My hand slipped inside my pants and shot into my crotch like a bullet. My fingers wrapped around my dick in time for it to slither away inside my fingers. My balls contorted and reformed, molding like putty in some invisible hand. I clawed at the flesh, a futile and irrational attempt at preventing the change. Within a few seconds my testicles squeezed into my skin, reshaping into a smooth hairless vagina.

I fell back, panting for air and stared up at the ceiling, tears rolling down my cheeks. It wasn’t only from the pain I wept, but for the loss of my masculinity and my bunnanity. My transformation continued unabated, hair falling away on my legs and feet, flesh twisting, knees popping and inverting and my spine creaking and reshaping.

Then it started, a trickle in my throat, followed by a burning. I took a breath, but could not exhale. The flesh of my neck oozed around, merging and reforming, and I flailed about, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen intake. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision and a strange calm came over me. Then air flooded back into my lungs and I jerked upright, both hands clasped over my throat.

A high feminine wail escaped my lips, and I sat there panting, sharp pain shooting up and down my face. Esther knelt beside me, her human face peering at me, her quivering bunny ears her only recognizable features save that they were now pink. A shock of short white hair was all that remained of her once luxurious coat.

There was a pressure in my face, as cracks and pops reverberated through my skull, and my muzzle slurped away retracting until it was flat. There was a strange plumping sensation and my lips took on more human proportions. A creak sounded from my face, when a human nose wiggled its way into place. The last few changes settled in, a strange burning in my eyes, followed by tufts of hair cascading from my scalp with an explosion of itches and tingles, and the pain faded into a dull throb, before, at last, disappearing.

I sat there and leaned back against the kitchen island, gasping and panting for breath. Esther studied me, her new countenance an expressionless mask. Her eyes were another story. They were wide with mixed confusion, shock, concern and something I couldn’t quite identify. She pursed her plump lips together, a hand reaching out to cup one of my naked breasts.

“God,” she moaned and leaned in, her lips brushing mine.

Then I understood. Something stirred inside me, a wild unyielding need, a sexual desire so strong and so pervasive all I could do was give in to it. I leaned forward, pressing my lips into hers, locking them into an open-mouthed kiss. When two bunnies kissed, they just pressed the ends of their muzzles together. Their mouths weren’t pliable enough for anything else, but our new human lips were capable of so much more.

Esther moaned, both hands now kneading my breasts, her body throbbing against mine. My lips worked their way down her neck, and my hands unclasped the buttons of her blouse. A flurry of hair, trapped inside during her transformation, fluttered away, and I got my first look at her chest, human or otherwise. God, they looked glorious.

I kissed her nipples, and she moaned in pleasure. Her hands reached for my waistband and the button came away. She peeled the fabric away, which was stretched tight across my widened hips, and after repeating the process with my boxers, my new pussy lay exposed to the air. She grinned from ear to ear and slid her index and middle fingers inside the crevice. I gasped, a low stifled groan emanating from my mouth and I shuddered from pure orgasmic pleasure.

Our love making continued, unabated, for what seemed like hours. I experienced more orgasms in that one night then I’d had at any point prior. I didn’t care that Samson’s drink had transformed me or that I’d, more or less, become a member of a different species. All that mattered was the sex, and it was spectacular.

When at last we separated, I laid on the ground, eyes closed, a smile touching my lips. Not once in my almost thirty years had I experienced pleasure so all-encompassing, so overpowering I couldn’t stop myself.

It didn’t matter, I had become a walking wet dream for the hordes of human males who lived on the surface. I yearned for more, yearned to make love to Esther again, and… to have a big fat cock hammer into my tight pussy. Even so, I was curious about the strange beverage that had prompted our transformation and that is what won out.

I opened my eyes and sat up, a soft moan escaping from my lips. I stretched my arms, my large pert breasts jiggling on my chest. It was an unusual, but not unwelcome sensation. I stood, locking eyes with Esther for the first time since we’d finished fucking each other.

She did not speak, but watched me, keen interest reflected in her eyes. I padded across the floor, my bare human feet slapping against the hard ceramic tiles. Over the course of our lovemaking, we’d disrobed one another and scattered bits of our clothing about the kitchen.

I sauntered over to the cabinet, a slight shiver working its way down my spine as I let my hips sway. I retrieved the bottle of blue fluid and set it next to the pink one.

“So,” I said, my voice light and airy, and so very feminine. “If the pink one does this,” I motioned down at my wondrous knew hourglass figure. “I betcha the blue one does all sorts of interesting things.”

I shivered at the prospect. Though I had no intention of trying it out myself, there were plenty of other bunnies who might be persuaded to give it a go. I imagined Peter transformed, his big hard cock pulsating inside of me, his muscled frame throbbing against my soft feminine body and I moaned, licking my lips.

That was assuming the blue drink wasn’t intended for something else. I thought back to Samson’s letter, the almost feminine quality of his writing and the fact that he’d scrawled Sammie on the package. What she must look like, so dainty and small.

I stopped long enough to tell Esther I’d be back with something I hoped would explain everything and slipped out of the kitchen. Making my way up the stairway and into my bedroom, I retrieved the letter from my end stand. When I turned to leave, I caught my reflection from the corner of my eye and stopped to study my new features. My new face was oval-shaped and framed by a shock of messy dark, almost black hair, a nice petite little nose and a smile that would have most men and a few women eating out of my hands. Good god, I was gorgeous. As I had only ever seen a handful of humans face to face, I had difficulty pegging my physical age, but the firmness of my breasts and the softness of my skin suggested I was on the younger side, perhaps in my early twenties.

I slid a hand over my locks to straiten them, but gave it up. The mirror was a small decorative piece my mother had hung years before her death. It was now level with my face, meaning I’d lost a good three or four inches in height. I brushed my hands through my hair along the side of my head, where human ears would be, but I found nothing save for soft velvety skin and hair. I tilted my head down trying to get a better look up top and furrowed my eyebrows, my ears were pink like Esther’s.

Absently fingering my ears, I studied my reflection a few moments longer and withdrew from the room. Sliding a hand down my back as I walked, I was oddly comforted to discover I still had my fluffy little bunny tail.

I found Esther waiting in the front room, sprawled naked upon the couch, flipping through an old book as if it were the most normal thing in the world. When she turned to meet my gaze, I stopped, studying her pink ears, a near match to mine, perched atop her snow-white crown.

It was difficult to tell, since she was sitting down, but she looked about the same height as before. Her form however, had changed in almost every way, her breasts were larger even than mine, but not so large they seemed disproportionate, her hips were only a little narrower than my own, and I thought, perhaps, her and I were about the same age.

I smiled, shivering at the memory of fucking her, and took a seat beside her. She leaned in close, her breasts pressed against my side and I released a contented sigh. I experienced none of the nervous anticipation from before. All of that had disappeared the moment I’d changed. I felt a confidence I’d never possessed before.

I caressed my lips with my tongue and clasped the envelope in my lap, tracing the wax seal with my finger-tip. Only an elf would be so old fashioned. So adorable… It was almost a shame to open it, but curiosity won out. I tore it open, slicing through it with the tip of my fingernail.

I removed the papers, back folded them, and flipped through them. There were more than a dozen individual papers, each filled back and front. Like I said, Samson tended to be a motor-mouth. About half way through the stack, a photograph fluttered out, landing on the coffee table. I reached out, flipped it face up and found myself looking at a rather provocative image of two beautiful ladies posing naked. A tall gorgeous brunette with bright blue eyes, hips that made me want to salivate and round large breasts, clutched at the form of a smaller woman with strawberry-blonde locks, elvish ears and a killer figure. I dropped the photo, bit my lips and mustered all my willpower in order to return my attention to Samson’s letter instead of fingering myself.

The first three and a half pages was a letter detailing Saint Nicholas’s accidental ingestion of something called the Aphrodite Potion, Samson’s resulting exposure and their subsequent efforts to spread as much of the strange brew through the North Pole, including an interesting situation with the Elvish Council of Elders. Towards the end of the letter Sammie mentioned the Adonis Formula, the blue beverage in the box, was a prototype potion designed to invoke a more masculine transformation.

She ended the letter, with well wishes and was hopeful that I would find the enclosed photo a titillating example of what the Aphrodite formula was capable of doing. She then remarked that I should give it a try for myself, it had sparked a “renewed passion “for life and that perhaps it could do the same for me.

I shivered again at the prospects now laid out before me, and turned to Esther detailing everything to my lover, grinning from ear to end, imagining Nikki and Sammie fucking my brains out. I might have found Sammie’s letter alarming had I not experienced the transformative effect for myself, but knowing what I did it was all I could do to contain my excitement.

Sammie gave me everything I’d need in the letter, the formula for both potions, tips for brewing, dosages, everything for which a sexy bunny girl could ask. I learned another interesting tidbit that produced a giggle of excitement. When the Adonis formula was combined with its counterpart, it made for some very… interesting results.

I pressed my lips together, a plan beginning to formulate in my mind.

“So, is it permanent?” Esther asked, and I stopped staring back at the other woman, surprised by the question, my mind already a thousand miles away.

“Uh, yeah,” I said offering her a reassuring smile and rifled through the pages until I, again, found the section detailing dosages. “Apparently, the bottle we drank out of contains a concentrated formula. It varies by body weight and metabolism, but if these numbers are correct. I’d say we drank several times over the recommended dose, so I don’t think there’s any chance of reverting.”

She released a long breath of air, and I grinned at her, licked my lips and shared with her my plan. With any luck, I could have my cake and eat it too.

It was late, into the early hours of the morning, most of the populace was asleep or at least making a stab at it. It was dark in the warren, but it was always dark. We lived underground. During daytime hours, smokeless torches, kept alight by magic unfathomable to humans, rimmed the corridors, but they only provided a modicum of illumination. At this late hour, only a handful remained lit.

It was fortunate, then, that Esther and I had retained such excellent night vision. I doubted human eyes would have provided us with clear enough sight to find our way. Our town was small in human terms, spanning just under a square mile, and Peter’s home wasn’t all that far from mine, anyway.

Peter had dedicated himself to his work, spending long hours away from home, and had never gotten married. He lived alone, which suited our purposes just fine.

I paused just out of range of the porch light and again pondered what we were about to do. Esther would never have gone along with my plan before her transformation and I wouldn’t have come up with such a harebrained solution were I not being influenced by my new libido. The disconcerting part was I didn’t find it the least bit disturbing, knowing that I planned to change someone else’s life just for my own gain. I should have, and that scared me, but not enough to keep me from going through with the plan.

I licked my lips, just the thought of what we were about to do producing a shiver of excitement. My lady parts quivered in anticipation.

I glanced back at Esther, who watched me with nervous anticipation. She wore a pair of my sweats and a dark long-sleeve shirt, and a similar ensemble adorned my frame. Neither one of us had clothes that fit us particularly well, and after discussing my plans we’d decided that we needed to act before word of our transformations spread through the warren. We’d grabbed what we could find in my rather sparse wardrobe which would fit over our new frames.

I motioned her forward and crept toward Peter’s home. We weren’t worried about getting in, no door within the warren had locks. Our prime concern was being seen. There weren’t many bunnies up this late, but you could never be too cautious.

We were inside in moments, and without delay made our way through the house, creeping on bare feet. Esther found his room, waving me inside with hurried motions. I stepped inside and barely managed to stifle a giggle. Peter, though fast asleep, had a massive erection.

It must be a sign, I told myself, reaching into my pocket and produced a small tube of violet fluid, a diluted mixture of the two potions. I knelt beside his bed, unstoppered the potion and popped the open end into his mouth. I tilted his head back, forced his mouth closed, and massaged his throat.

Peter came awake with a start, sitting bolt upright, coughing and wheezing, but I’d done my job. Other than a few droplets, none of the potion came back up.

“What the hell? Who are you? What’s going on here?” Peter glanced between the two of us, eyes wide as saucers, speaking between coughs.

“Oh, Peter,” I said a soft gentle tone to my voice, much like a mother soothing a child. “You’ll understand very soon.”

“Look human, I don’t know what you think you’re doing in my ho–” He never finished the sentence. A gurgle sounded from his throat, and he hunched over, clutching at it.

He took a nose dive, and I barely caught him before he face-planted, but I managed. My arms and back burned from the effort. Somehow I pulled him back on to the bed and collapsed atop it beside him, gasping and heaving. I hadn’t realized how much strength I’d lost from my transformation, and I lay there, experiencing the slightest pang of regret.

I shook my head, craning my neck down at my melons and smiled. The odd brief moment of loss evaporated away. My loss of strength was a small price to pay in exchange for the carnal delights my new body offered.

A soft feminine moan sounded from Peter’s lips and I pulled myself back up, determined not to miss any more. A slender and quite lovely furless neck, far too small to support his large head, had taken up residency upon his shoulders.

Fur dropped from his face in swathes, and the skin beneath bubbled and contorted, reshaping and smoothing out. Bones cracked in his face, his snout retracting in on itself. A blood-curdling scream escaped his mouth as his new face snapped into place. Smooth almost milky-white skin now covered a soft delicate almost doll-like face which was framed by silken honey-blonde hair. Instead of turning pink like mine, his ears shifted to a lovely violet shade. Pouty lips and a tiny button nose complemented his wide doe-eyes and generous eyelashes quite well.

I didn’t yet know just how much height Peter would lose, but if the size of his dainty little head were any sign, he would be quite the petite little thing. I shivered in anticipation.

Peter lay there, panting like a dog and I unbuttoned the front of his pajama shirt as his shoulders snapped and cracked, matte grey fur fluttered away as if carried off on a wind, soft milky human skin took its place. His shoulders narrowed, and the transformation trickled down his arms and chest. A loud crack and a crunch sounded from within his limbs and chest, fat collected beneath his nipples and soon a pair of beautiful round breasts swelled out from his flesh.

He cried out, howling in misery, and arched his back, the contours of his spine snapping into a new alignment. Each crack and pop produced a fresh change. His waistline shrank down, and his hips did too. Legs and feet shortened to match, and soon a tiny little slip of a woman sat bolt upright, frantically pulling at her pajama bottoms.

My hands shot out to help, but she swatted them away with a frantic sweep of her arm. When the last of her clothes came free, she gasped and stared down between her legs. Though she had the usual female parts, she still had a cock.

On a male Peter’s former size, it would have been above average. On her new tiny frame, it appeared massive. She grasped hold of it, her second hand slipping up her chest to knead a breast. The fear and panic that had marked her features before, faded away and a slow dreamy smile stretched across her face. She fell onto her back, and I crawled over to her, kissing Peter’s soft feminine lips. Her raging hard-on pressed into my hip, and I pulled away, hands reaching for the waist of my sweats.

Though Peter’s transformation was temporary, I full intended to give her a fully test-drive. Once I’d disrobed, I wasted no time, working my lips up and down her soft, feminine form. Esther joined in, pressing her breasts into my back, hands pushed into my breasts. Though we’d fucked each other silly a few hours before, we were ready for more.

Peter had always been the leader of the pack, always the dominate male, even when we were children. It was my turn to dominate her, and she yielded like wax to the flame. When I permitted her to penetrate my cunt, there was no doubt who was in charge. I rode on top.

Things turned out pretty much how I planned them. After our first night together Peter was like clay, so easy to mold and shape. Though she reverted to her old form a few hours after her transformation, she hadn’t been the same old Peter. When we made love, she’d let me take the reins. There was a clear shift in power and we both knew it.

The first time she reverted, the dear thing begged me on her hands and knees to change her again, and I relented the very next night. I needed her to be Peter during the day, but at night, so long as she behaved, she was my little toy. Though the transformation was agonizing, she seemed more than happy to undergo it if there was even the slightest chance Esther and I would provide her with the sweet pleasures of the flesh. When she asked me for a new name, I knew she was firmly in my web, and so she became my little Honey Bunny, and I her mistress.

Esther, of course, was mainly along for the ride and was happy to do anything I asked her in bed. In her I found the partner I’d so long desired. Honey was just my plaything, but with Esther our connection wasn’t just physical, I cared for her even loved her.

‘Peter’ covered for my disappearance, saying that she’d sent me on a special errand. No one questioned it. She was, after all, the Easter Bunny. Esther was another story, she was not employed in the factory and thus Peter could not speak for her. No one knew of our burgeoning romance, but we’d long been close and all it had taken was a few whispers here or there. According to the stories, Esther left with me, having at last admitted her true feelings. There were other rumors too, ones of a darker nature, but no one stepped forward with concrete proof and they left the matter hanging.

A few days after Easter, the first transformations took place. We’d been pretty random about who we picked and were careful not to drug any children. At first there was panic and finger-pointing, but as the changes continued night after night, and little by little attitudes shifted. Though many tried, none determined a cause. A few fled the warren in fear, but even interference from the other warrens did little to slow the onslaught of transformations. Soon, with the help of a select few unwitting dupes, we disseminated the potions to the other warrens.

We even began making our own formula from scratch. Roughly half of those we transformed were given the Aphrodite formula, an eighth the Adonis, and the rest what we dubbed the Hermaphroditus formula, the same mix that I’d given Honey.

I enjoyed riding the cock of a big hunk of a man as much as the next girl, but males had a lot of silly ideas. I should know I used to be one. It was best to keep them in the minority so us ladies might have a turn at the wheel. Those transformed by the Hermaphroditus formula weren’t a problem. Something about their transformations made them so pliable, they did pretty much anything we told them.

Before long, those who’d been changed outnumbered those who had not and as I hoped, the females were the ones who filled the power vacuum. By then everyone knew the truth, but those that were transformed didn’t care and the rest had given up hope of things ever returning to normal.

Jack was all but a bad memory, I’d become a vibrant, confident, and sexy woman, I took a name that fit the new me. Briana, it made me feel sexy as hell and I think it fit pretty well. Esther also adopted a new moniker. She confessed to me, she’d never really liked Esther much to begin with and since we’d already changed so much why keep such a ghastly name? Etta seemed to fit her just fine.

That was when I made my return to public life, with Esther in tow, revealing that I had been behind the entire thing. There had been so very many thankful bunnies that there was a campaign to name me the new Easter Bunny. I hadn’t asked for it, but who was I to argue with the will of the people? I at last permitted Peter to become Honey full time and other than the rampant sex, and the tide of transformed bunnies, everything returned to normal, save for one little thing.

My first act as Easter Bunny was to put a new emphasis on hand-painted eggs. There was still a place for the mass-produced candy-filled ones that had supplanted their more traditional counterparts, but by next Easter I intended that every human household receive at least one hand-painted egg, more if we could manage.

I never yelled at my workers, and I gave them encouragement wherever possible. I couldn’t say if that had anything to do with it, or if it was the increased stamina from the potions, but productivity went up more than twenty-five percent.

Etta, Honey, and I moved in together. Instead of working with me Honey pursued a new career as a seamstress, she displayed an aptitude for it that surprised us all. It was just as well. There was a real clothing shortage with the wave of transformations and no one wanted to wear their drab old outfits, anyway.

Etta helped manage the factory, and during lunch breaks we made time for each other, which is to say we fucked like the bunny rabbits we’d once been, and Honey, always eager to join in the fun often showed up to participate in our escapades. At first, she was just our little play thing, but over time she showed a great deal of remorse for the way she’d treated me, and I, in turn, for manipulating her. Without quite knowing how, we found a place for her in our hearts. The three of us married the next spring.

I don’t know if my father would approve, but I tried to honor him in whatever way I could. It was a shame he hadn’t lived to see me at last embrace the responsibility he’d wanted for me all along.

Santa Babe 2: Elfsurrection

Author's Note

I didn’t think I’d finish this one in time for Christmas, but inspiration struck at the last minute and I managed to finish it off this morning. Please note, that like the first story in this series, Elfsurrection is far more fetishy than my usual offerings.

A slow smile found its way onto my lips, and I licked them winking at Arcadius Noel who kept sneaking furtive glances at my chest. I couldn’t say I blamed him, I wasn’t wearing much. A candy-stripe bra, matching leggings, black stiletto heels, an elf-green mini-dress, and a matching stocking cap were all that adorned my frame and a girl with my proportions was a rare sight in the North Pole. Elf women were flat-chested and possessed hips almost as narrow as their male counterparts. Transformed by the Aphrodite Potion, I was the epitome of feminine beauty. Was it any wonder the old elf couldn’t keep his eyes off me?

“Samson Twinklebottom!” Greogira Glittertoes screamed out at the head of the table.

I turned, clenching my jaw at her use of my former male name, and regarded her with cool eyes. Even before my change I had not cared for the elder, though the youngest of the council, she was the most conservative and the most steeped in tradition. She would, of course, be the one most threatened by my transformation.

I stood before the council of elders, the governing body of the Elves of the North Pole. One seat, remained empty, a padded, human-sized affair that belonged to Saint Nicholas, but given that our employer was the subject of this gathering, and her transformation from rotund sad sack to busty babe, it seemed doubtful she would be in attendance.

“I will not tolerate distractions!” Greogira added rising to her feet and peering across the table at me.

Though, I now towered over her because of my transformation, I shrank back unprepared by the intensity of her gaze.

She might have been pretty if a scowl didn’t crease her ageless face, which was unmarred by wrinkles or age spots. Elves did not age in the way of humans. The only sign of the passage of time, was the gradual graying and eventual whitening of the hair, and among males, the ability to grow facial hair. All who sat on the council sported a shock of snow-white hair, and all save the councilwoman possessed a matching beard.

“Now, now, Greogira,” Bernaldo Mugginbubbles rose to his feet, a chiding tone in his deep baritone voice. “Do remember that young Samson, is under the influence of a powerful magic.”
Greogira glowered at him, but only regarded him for a second before returning her attention back to me, her scowl deepening tenfold. “You have failed to carry out your duties as a helper elf. We tasked you to watch over the Santa Claus, ensuring only that he completed his gift-giving role and not get into any mischief. You have allowed both yourself and our exalted leader to be transformed into some kind of sex-crazed bimbos by that insidious concoction and have jeopardized everything toward which elfkind has worked for these countless centuries. Do you not understand the seriousness of this situation?”
I gritted my teeth, my anger simmering just below the surface. Though Santa was quick to jump in bed and delighted in her new appearance, she was far from a bimbo and was not intellectually deficient. The potion did not diminish intelligence or change an individual’s overall personality. Yes, Santa possessed the same body and sex-drive as a centerfold in a dirty magazine, but every attribute that made her the Claus was still there. She was just wrapped in a prettier package.

Until her transformation, Santa had been a drunken shell of her former self, but walking in on your wife of countless centuries boinking Jack Frost would do that to a fellow. The new Santa was most definitely an improvement. Something about her transformation had brought that glimmer of child-like joy back into her eyes. She had been just doing the motions for so long, I’d almost forgotten what the old Santa had been like.

Hands caressed my shoulders, and I shivered as lips brushed my neck. I turned, a smile creasing my lips as I met Santa’s gaze. She wore the same white-trimmed red-velvet minidress and knee-length boot she’d been sporting while delivering gifts and a shiver worked its way down my spine at the sight of her.

Just a day ago, the mere thought of Santa transforming into this leggy brunette with wide-hips and large breasts would have seemed laughable, but now that the change had come about I couldn’t imagine her any other way.

“They won’t know what hit them,” I whispered, kissing her on the lips. I closed my eyes, letting myself be swept away by the sensations. When she pulled away, I didn’t want it to stop, but I bit back my disappointment and watched her saunter toward the council of elders.

“Nicholas,” Greogira nodded at Santa, her expression blank, but fire still smoldering in her eyes. “I was just—”

“Greogira,” Santa said her otherwise plump lips pressed into thin lines. “There’s no need for a recap, I heard everything.”

Greogira flinched as if Santa dealt her a physical blow, her whole body trembling. In living memory no elf had crossed Santa. Even for her to say as much as she already had bordered on scandalous. Even now, facing Santa in her new feminine form she could not bring herself to speak against the old gift-giver.

There was a scuffle and a clatter behind the old elf, and Greogira turned revealing the slender form of Eros Butterbee, with a tray of drinks and pastries. “Um, mistress I thought you might be hungry.”

Butterbee was the shortest elf I’d ever met, a mere eighteen inches tall, he was more than a century older than me. He worked in the kitchens, a thankless job that kept him busy throughout the seasons feeding the army of hungry elves, but one which he seemed to enjoy.

“Thank you, Butterbee.” Greogira eyed the diminutive elf before waving him off with a disdainful flick of her wrists. “Begone.”

The kitchen elf, glanced toward Santa and me and set the tray on the table, a strange mix of wonder and confusion in his eyes, before he scurried away and disappeared from sight. Santa furrowed her brows, peering at me, but if she knew what I had planned she didn’t say a word.

Elves love sweets so much, we eat almost nothing else. As magical creatures we aren’t susceptible to human failings like diabetes or tooth decay and given that we had a sweet tooth that surpassed even that of the most voracious of human children, we indulge whenever possible. Even a sourpuss like Greogira would not let the opportunity to treat herself to a pastry or a piece of candy slip by.

Greogira selected a tall goblet, no doubt filled with some fruity sugar-coma-inducing concoction, and a danish, before passing the tray along to Wilbur Jellyfluff, the only member of the council who had yet to speak up. Jellyfluff made his own selections before passing his tray onward, nibbling on a cherry tart as he rose to his feet.

I eyed the tall elf, my heart skipping a beat watching him nibble and waited on bated breath to see what would happen. My head jerked sideways and I regarded Santa, but she did not turn to meet my gaze. We separated the moment we’d returned to the North Pole and I had just enough time to nab some potion and enlist Eros Butterbee’s aid before the council had summoned me. I’d thought to inform Santa of my plans before then, but the opportunity had not presented itself. In any case, she would discover the truth soon enough.

At almost four feet tall, Wilbur Jellyfluff cut an imposing figure for an elf, and he was the most well loved among the council members, but he too was a traditionalist albeit one with a kinder disposition than Greogira.

“Nicholas,” a gentle smile stretched across his face. “What are we to do with you?”

“Exactly what we’ve always done, Wil,” Santa answered back massaging her neck and emitting a soft moan. “You make the toys and I deliver them, but please won’t you call me Nikki?”

“This won’t do, I’m afraid. Greogira despite her lack of tact is right. Imagine the scandal it will generate amongst the mortals. Santa Claus become a sex-object? We’ll never hear the end of it from the social justice warriors or the Christian fanatics. Allow us to examine you, perhaps with some time we might undo the effects of the Aphrodite formula and return you to your proper form.”

Santa narrowed her eyes, and clenched her fists at her side, regarding the council of elders between gritted teeth. “For over a decade you have let me drink myself into a stupor, not once attempting to render the aid and compassion I needed. Now, that I have been reborn, and found a new measure of happiness, you wish to take it away from me? No, Wilbur, I won’t allow it.”

“Then we—.” Jellyfluff groaned and hunched over clutching at his stomach. He collapsed atop the table before him, tart dropping from his hand, its cherry filling splattering all over the ground.

Greogira and Bernaldo were on their feet and moving toward the other council member, but the former soon hunched over, disappearing from view on the other side of the table shrieks of pain reverberating through the chamber. The latter fell to his knees, the skin on his face rippled and contorted and a soft and far too feminine moan escaped his lips.

Only Arcadius Noel remained seated, throwing out both hands and howled in agony as he too underwent the first stages of his transformation.

Wilbur shrieked and I turned back in time to watch him jerk back to his feet. His arms flailing about and grappling with the front of his tunic. He pulled it free just in time, for a budding set of breasts to materialize upon his flat hairless Elven chest. His bones cracked and popped as his torso extended, and he fell chest first, atop the tabletop. Hips exploded outward, fat appearing as if from nowhere his stockings ripping open unable to accommodate his burgeoning human-sized and very feminine proportions.

Greogira raised her head then, sporting a head of chestnut-brown hair, and threw a set of human-length arms across the table to balance her tiny Elven frame. She moaned, her frame shooting up as her legs and torso extended outward, just moments before her breasts and hips swelled to match her enlarged frame. She groaned and collapsed atop the table her transformation, less severe and thus complete.

Wilbur howled once more, bearded face contorting as hair began to fall from it in clumps, revealing his flat unremarkable features. A loud crunch sounded and his face bubbled out, growing to match his already human-sized form, but also becoming softer and rounder. His large flat nose, reshaped and remolded itself, worry-lines smoothed out and as his snow-white hair disappeared altogether, honey blonde hair spilled out in ringlets, cascading past his shoulders and down his back. Thin lips plumped out and a low and still very masculine moan escaped his lips. Then his voice, cracked and his prominent Adam’s apple receded into his throat disappearing altogether. He jerked, a loud pop reverberating through his spine, and he leaned forward, emitting a much more suitable feminine groan as his spine curved and his posterior ballooned out.

A scream sounded from the end of the table and Arcadius Noel lurched forward falling across the table and over the side, rolling onto his back. I knelt down beside him, surprised to find that there was only the barest hint that potion had begun its work on him. I don’t know if there was something he’d consumed that might have slowed down the progress or if perhaps something about his physiology had caused it, but whatever it was, it didn’t last much longer.

Bones snapped and popped and I reached out cupping both hands around one of his, smiling down at him in reassurance. I’d undergone a very similar transformation, and I understood all too well how painful it could be. That beings said, I would not take back what had happened to me for all the world.

For whatever reason, the order in which someone transformed varied from person to person. I soon found his hand, ballooning out within my own, but neither of his arms nor his other hand followed instead, his face rearranged itself. His flowing white beard, maintained over so many centuries fluttered away, seeming to disappear into the open air. His rugged, sharp-edge features dissolved, and his long comically over-sized nose shrunk down even as the rest of his face expanded outward. Fire-red hair spilled out from atop his head stopping at his shoulders. Lips parted, but no sound escaped instead they plumped out, and a crack resounded inside his neck as it reshaped itself.

Arcadius’ left hip swelled out, stretching his tights until they tore open, but the right side did not follow, at least, not yet. One side of his chest, expanded and I slid my hands out, cutting opened the front of his tunic with a work knife procured from within my left boot, to make room for his contorting proportions. The right side of his chest ballooned out, a single breast occupying his otherwise flat chest. His arm came next, at last stretching out to the proper proportions for his hand. The second arm followed, but this time the changes stopped when they reached his wrist.

A waistline, previously untouched, expanded outward, narrow by human standards, but much wider than any elf alive possessed. At last, his other boob swelled out to the same size as the first and granted his form a degree of symmetry. His torso extended outward and first one leg then the other stretched out to match it, before her last hand creaked and popped coming to match the first.

Arcadius screamed, a high-pitched wail so loud, it forced me to cover my ears. He grappled at his privates and I watched unable to keep myself from shivering in anticipation as I realized how close he was to completing his transformation. Soon, he emitted a long breath of air and his attention shifted from the space between his legs to his remaining hip which had swollen outward. My attention, however remained on his privates where the outline of a lovely camel toe showed beneath his hosiery. Soon, Arcadius had completed his transformation, his spine realigned to more feminine proportions and his feet, swollen to a size more befitting his taller frame. I beamed down at him and held a hand out.

He hesitated and then grasped my outstretched hand, his or rather her, bare chest jiggling like a bowl full of jelly as she rose to her feet. A hand, again, touched my shoulder and I turned to regard Santa swallowing hard. Her eyes were wide, shock reflected at me.

Nikki turned, and my eyes followed her gaze. Greogira, Wilbur, and another young woman, sporting a shock of long raven-black hair that fell well past her knees, I assumed was Bernaldo, approached. Though each had grown to more human proportions, a side-effect of using a potion intended for humans, Bernaldo was the shortest of the three coming in at just under four and a half feet tall. Greogira stood only a few inches taller, and Bernaldo towered over the pair of them almost six feet tall. They looked human for the most part, save for their ears which kept their telltale pointy tip.

A familiar scowl marked Greogira’s face, but it did not mar her features as it did before. Still recognizable, her features had nonetheless softened and there was no doubt that she was beautiful, even with her teeth clenched. It did however, make her seem less the wrathful elder and more a petulant child. Wilbur approached with a frown one hand kneading an exposed breast. Bernaldo followed not even looking up one arm folded across her chest, the other clasped over her vulva offering only a modicum of modesty and her cheeks turned such a bright shade of red it was a close match to tattered remnants of her scarlet tunic.

“This only proves our point!” Greogira said jabbing a finger into Santa’s chest. Whatever reservations she had about confronting Nikki had evaporated away with her transformation. “The Aphrodite Potion has clearly affected your judgement. Nicholas would have never drugged one of his elves let alone four of us.”

“That was my doing.” I smiled stepping between Nikki and Greogira.

“Regardless, even you Samson would not stoop so low,” Greogira countered this time rounding on me.

“I-I don’t know,” Wilbur said slipping a hand between her legs as a dreamy smile stretched across her lips. “It feels pretty good.”

Greogira snapped her head around, both hands on her hips as she stared at her peer with wide eyes. “Get a grip on yourself Wilbur, the potion is messing with your mind.”

Wilbur smiled a soft moan escaping her lips as two fingers caressing the insides of her lady parts. Greogira rounded on her, latching both hands around the other elder’s arms and shook her so hard the other’s head snapped back. Wilbur, stared at her wide-eyed and I thought for a second she might have reached her, but then the dreamy smile returned and Wilbur leaned in to kiss the other woman.

Greogira stiffened like a plank, even her lips remained frozen in place, but her resistance soon melted away against the other woman’s continued efforts. As they broke for air, a soft moan escaped her lips.  “I never imagined.” She shivered, biting her lip and took several steps back.

I folded both arms across my chest and smiled, regarding Greogira and each of the new women my eyes lingering on Bernaldo who still refused to make eye contact with any of them. “You’ve each received a small dose of the Aphrodite formula. In a few hours, or a few days, depending on how much you consumed you should revert to your original forms.” I slipped a hand inside my bra, producing four small vials of a familiar pink fluid. “Should you wish to make the change permanent, I do believe we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

Arcadius who had remained off to the side throughout the confrontation, peering down at her hands and shook her head. “I can sense them, the sensations, the desires swelling within me. It terrifies me, but…” She lurched forward, and whipped a hand out, sliding one of the vials from my outstretched hand, pulled the stopper free and downed it in one gulp. “I never want to go back. It feels too good.”

We all peered at her with wide eyes. For Arcadius to make such a quick snap-judgement seemed so unlike the brooding, taciturn man we all knew. She licked her lips and peered at me with an arched eyebrow a suggestive smile creeping its way onto her face. “There isn’t a male version of the Aphrodite formula sitting about is there? I would dearly love to spend some alone time with a nice big hunk of a man, if you catch my drift.”

“No, but with your support, I’d like to resume production of the Aphrodite formula. If we bring the original creators onboard, I’m sure they can… come up with something that will whet your appetite.” Santa cleared her throat, answering before I even had a chance, her ruby red lips stretching into a smile.

At this pronouncement, Bernaldo’s head jerked up, and she peered about glancing at all of us. She didn’t speak a word. Instead, she took several steps back, spun around on the balls of her feet and took off running her long locks trailing after her. The look on her face telling me all I needed to know.

I watched her depart, then paused long enough to slip all but one of the remaining vials into Santa’s hands and took off after her. I knew all too well what she must be going through and could guess why she’d fled. That being said, if she reverted to her old form, she could rally the rest of the denizens of the North Pole against us and ruin everything. That I could not allow.
 

 
As you might imagine, running in stilettos is damn near impossible, a fact I came to realize as I burst out of the council chambers and face-planted onto the hardwood floor. The resulting flash of agony from my chest left me breathless for several long minutes. I groaned, rolled onto my back, hugged my knees against the chest, gritted my teeth against the resulting burst of pain, unclasped the straps holding the shoes in place and tossed them aside. I lurched back to my feet prepared to resume my pursuit, but the corridors were silent and I could detect no sign of the elder elf’s passing.

I sank my teeth into my lower lip, again ignoring the resulting flash of pain, my mind racing as I tried to put myself into Bernaldo’s mind. She might have gone for help, but I knew precious little about her. The elves did not possess any policing agencies, lawlessness was not a predilection toward which we were inclined. So, she would flee to the home of a friend or family member or… I stopped a smile creeping across my lips as realization dawned on me. She wasn’t running with any plan in mind; she was fleeing out of fear. No, it seemed far more likely she would return home and since I knew she never married, it seemed unlikely there would be anyone waiting for her when she reached her destination.

I took off running barefooted and better able to keep my balance, but unprepared for how much my bounteous chest would bounce while I moved. I could measure my time spent in my female form in hours, not days or months. The Aphrodite formula granted me a fair bit of confidence and understanding of how to move in my new form, but familiarity was not something I’d developed just yet.

I burst out of the exit, shivering against the cold, bare feet pounding against the frost-covered peppermint-striped pavement, bouncing breasts aching with each new movement. Still, I kept running my feet raw and scuffed and heart hammering in my chest. Soon enough, I caught site of footprints in the snow, toward Bernaldo’s cottage and I veered off catching my second wind as I went tearing thorough the winter landscape.

No elf had feet that large. In her eagerness to get home, Bernaldo had elected to take a more direct path and had given herself away. I guessed right in assuming she would flee to her cottage instead of seeking aid.

I reached the house a few moments later and stepped onto the porch, hesitating as I reached for the doorknob. This felt wrong, Bernaldo had done nothing to harm me and I doubted she would seek aid once she’d sequestered herself within her cottage. Maybe, I was approaching this from the wrong angle, I mused, hand turning the doorknob. The potion transformed her, in the same way it changed me just a short time ago. She needed my help, and here I’d been chasing after her as if she were a convicted felon.

I slipped inside the door with no issue. As I said earlier, crime did not exist within the North Pole and we respected each other’s privacy… mostly. I closed the door behind me, and paused just inside listening for sounds of movement, my keen Elven ears picked something up within seconds and I crept deeper inside, eyes scanning the interior.

Bernaldo’s cottage was small, and I made my way to the back, stopping just outside a door, through the cracks of which light poured through. I put my ear to its hardwood surface, and a muffled sob spilled through. Waiting no longer, I turned the knob and stepped inside. The other elf was slumped on the ground, still wearing the tattered remains of her tunic and tights. She lurched to her feet ready to bolt for the door when she caught sight of me.

I held my hands up and out, taking careful steps before swinging the door shut with the back of my elbow. “Look, I know you’re afraid, and confused as hell, but I can help you. I went through it myself last night,” I said realizing that it was now well into the early morning hours as I spoke. “I don’t want to—”

“Fuck me,” she yelled, screaming out at the top of her lungs, eyes wide and looking for all the world like an animal confronting a predator. “I can’t contain it anymore, just help me release it.”

The Aphrodite formula had that affect. Santa had gone through her own metamorphosis while delivering presents to a widower and his young children. It had taken her less than a minute to seduce him, and moments later when I underwent my change it had taken little for me to join in. Over the course of the night, Santa and I had seduced a lingerie model, a college freshman, and a set of identical twins. Not to mention the number of times we’d fucked or made out inside the sleigh between stops.

Bernaldo straightened and the terror that marked her face before, faded away. She smiled and sauntered toward me, her lips finding purchase around mine. When she broke for air, she pushed me down atop her bed, in the back of my mind it occurred to me that it was much too small for our human-sized frames, but she was already unclasping my bra. Her lips, were soon kissing my breasts, and when she plunged her fingers inside my clit the pleasure that followed was indescribable.
 

 
I sat up, a soft groan escaping my lips as I fought to come awake. Hair covered my face and I reached out collecting it with my hands before slipping it behind my ears. That seemed odd, but I was pretty much dead in the water so I couldn’t quite grasp why. I peered down at my chest, sucking in my breath as I looked down at a pair of bare breasts protruding from my chest.
It all came back to me then, and a slow smile crept onto my face as I recalled my transformation and all the fun I’d had since taking on my new form. I cupped my melons and craned my neck about eyes scanning the room for my discarded clothing and Bernaldo. Neither were in evidence, nor was the vial of Aphrodite formula.

There were blankets and pillows strewn about the place and I didn’t care to dig through them to retrieve the discarded articles of clothing. Modesty didn’t have the same hold on me as it had before my change and so I shrugged and slipped out of bed, peering about the room one final time before sauntering through the doorway.

I found Bernaldo in the living room seated atop an old couch, a vial of pink fluid clutched in her hands. She’d yet to revert to her male form, and she looked out of place perched atop the elf-sized sofa. The other elf looked up at me as I approached, and I seated myself beside her and smiled.

“This isn’t me,” she said motioning down at herself tears rolling down her cheeks. “But I want it to be too much. It terrifies me, that if I take this I’ll lose myself, that I’ll give myself over to the desires and urges of this body. Like I did last night.”

“So?” I asked peering back at her. “What’s wrong with having a little fun? You’re still you, you’re just in a prettier wrapper. Last night, I saw Santa returned, the drunken bitter jackass I’ve had to contend with the last ten years gone, and the Jolly gift-giver of old returned. She is the Clause, just as I am that moldy old stick in the mud Samson, I happen to be a fair bit easier on the eyes and will fuck almost anything that walks on two legs. My appearance and sex drive doesn’t change who I am… it makes things more interesting.”

Bernaldo bowed her head, but didn’t speak again. I reached over, sliding the vial from her hands and held it in front of her face. “Look, if you don’t want it, that’s fine. Give Santa your full support and—”

Bernaldo sobbed and I froze watching her shake her head. “I’ve been alone so long I forgot what it felt like to hold another in my arms.”

She reached for the vial and I let her have it. Again, she held it before her and she tightened her grip pulled her arm back and I tensed expecting her to throw it across the room. She peered at me, sighed, and uncorked the bottle, downing the contents in one gulp. She looked back at me, eyes wide and her hands shaking. The vial clattered to the ground shattering at her feet.

“You won’t regret it,” I smirked, pecked her on the cheek and glanced back over my shoulder toward the bedroom door. Perhaps a little celebration was in order, but before I could voice this thought a series of dull thumps sounded from the exterior door.

I kissed her again, this time on the lips and rose to my feet. Bernaldo was still in something of a fragile state and I don’t believe she was quite ready to entertain. “You stay there, I’ll get it.”

I swung the door open and found myself peering down at a minuscule little morsel. An elf who’d undergone the transformative effects of the Aphrodite formula, but one who was a fair bit shorter than any of the others at a mere three feet. She froze staring up at my bare chest, and I bit my lip only then realizing that I was still naked.

“Sammie!” She beamed up at me, gazing at my figure with an appreciative expression. “It’s me, Eros! I’m going by Daisy now!”

I bit my lips waving her inside the cottage. Eros or rather Daisy Butterbee had been far more eager to help me than I expected and when she named her price I’d been more than a little flabbergasted. She wanted a full dose of the potion for herself, something I’d not expected of her, but when she confided in me she had long been fostering a secret yearning to be female, I was more than happy to accommodate her.

“Is it done?” I asked slamming the door shut behind her and shivered against the cold.

Butterbee nodded, eyes locking on Bernaldo on the couch. “How about you, any luck?”

“Yeah,” I replied arms folded across my chest smirking back at Bernaldo.

“Great!” Butterbee beamed, pulled her top over her head and tossed it aside with a flick of her wrists. “I’ve been itching to give this new body a whirl.”

Bernaldo regarded her a moment before dashing to her feet, scooped the diminutive elfup, and carried her into the bedroom without a word. I stared after them, my smirk stretching into a grin as Bernaldo’s moans sounded through the doorway. I sauntered into the room, eager to join in and soon she wasn’t the only elf screaming out in pleasure.

The End

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Displaced

Author's Note

I’ve been sitting on this one for over a year and a half. I figured it was about time I dusted this puppy off and get it fine-tuned so I could share it with all of you. Thanks again Xtrim for providing grammar edits.

This story is part of an open universe, please visit the open universes page for details.

At the sound of footsteps, I dove into a copse of bushes near the base of the exterior staircase. My heart hammered in my chest as I positioned myself to surveil the path leading into the building. It was dark and illumination from a streetlight beamed down on the sidewalk giving me a clear view of the newcomer.

His perfect teeth were gritted, and he was yelling into his phone. “The wry little bastard has been giving me the slip all day.”

When Jared Travis stepped in front of the bushes where I’d concealed myself, he stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Mom, but last month it took him almost a week to pay up and I’m getting real tired of trying to hunt him down.”

Linda, Jared’s mother, owned Shady Acres Apartments. She’d retired a few years back and left the management of the building up to her son. That she’d taken a personal interest didn’t bode well for me at all.

“Okay, okay,” he said turning his back to me and shaking his head. “Calm down, no one said anything about evicting him.”

Okay, did I hear that right? I shook my head and discounted the notion. Linda was a far sight more pleasant to get along with than her son. She’d been the most easy going landlady from whom I’d ever rented. That being said she’d evicted more than a few people over the years, it seemed unlikely she’d spare me a second thought.

Jared growled under his breath, tapped the screen of his phone and slid it back into his pocket. He glanced back toward the bushes one final time and for a second I was sure he’d seen me, but then he turned away and disappeared back into the building slamming the door shut behind him.

I waited a few tense minutes, certain that he would return, but when he didn’t show his face, I pulled myself out of the bushes. After brushing myself off, I made my way back into the building keeping my eyes and ears open. It was late, and the hallways were devoid of anyone or anything which made it a lot easier for me to get back into my apartment unnoticed.

Still, where Jared was concerned, I’d learned to be cautious. When I got to the elevators, instead of hopping in, I walked past, taking the opposite doorway and made my way up the staircase.

I lived on the third floor and the effort shouldn’t have winded me, but I’d spent all day booking my ass around town and hopping from bus to bus. I submitted my resume to more than half a dozen places and I still didn’t like my chances. Needless to say, I was tired.

When I got up to my floor, I paused at the door, glanced out the little window and cursed under my breath. “Dammit all to hell.”

Jared, my super, waited just outside my apartment door, arms folded across his chest and, as cliché as it sounded, tapping his foot on the floor. The slick bastard must have figured out I wasn’t inside and was waiting for me to get back. Which meant I would either have to confront him or wait him out.

I chose the latter cursing the pretty boy under my breath as I slumped down to the ground and let out a long sigh. Must be nice to have a rich mother to hand you a damn job. Meanwhile people like me had to do things the hard way. Given that I froze up during interviews, I didn’t have much success.

I sighed and pulled my phone out of my pocket confirming what I already knew, the thing was dead. So, I put it back and looked around.

That’s when I saw something which caught my eye.

I grunted and reached over retrieving what looked like a rolled-up magazine which someone had jammed into a slat in the railing. Once unrolled, I peered into the thing and snorted. It wasn’t a magazine at all, but a catalog titled ‘Aethermysts: Your number one source for all your magic needs.’

I flipped through the pages and snorted again.

“Give me a fucking break. Mach-O-Blaster, Gend-O-Matic? What the fuck is this?” I asked no one in particular then crumpled the catalog into a ball and threw the damn thing as hard and as far as I could.

With a long plaintive sigh, I folded my arms across my chest and gritted my teeth. Something told me I would have one long ass wait on my hands.

#

The wry little bastard lingered for another three hours before finally giving up and traipsing out of the hallway. I had to hand it to him he stuck around much longer than I expected. I guess it just goes to show how big of an annoyance I’d been. I just needed to keep away from him until tomorrow morning. After that, there was a good chance I’d have the money.

I waited ten minutes after he left, then opened the stairwell door and glanced about the hallway before slinking my way toward my apartment door and slipped inside. I dropped my coat at the door, so tired I didn’t even give a fuck about expending the extra effort to put it on the coat rack.

My apartment wasn’t much to look at, and, to be honest, I was no interior decorator. By almost any standard my living space was damned spartan, but that suited me just fine. I didn’t need to clutter up my place with useless crap. I had everything I would ever need.

Moving through my modest little living space, I cut a beeline to the bedroom. Once inside, I fell face first into bed. I rolled onto my side, and just before I slipped into a semi-vegetative state, I noticed a wadded up piece of paper resting on my nightstand. Within seconds, I was out and lost in the blissful world of dreams.

#

It was late by the time my tired ass woke up. Had it not been for the sound of several loud thuds, I would have slept longer. At first, I convinced myself the sound resulted from muted gunfire, but as I came fully awake, I realized something much more mundane was at work. Someone was at the door.

I stumbled out of bed, knocking the crumpled up wad of paper off of my nightstand, and staggered toward the door. I had just enough presence of mind to glance through the peephole before swinging the door wide open.

“Waddya want?!” I demanded barely capable of even grunting it out and squinted at the little fellow as I scratched the back of my head.

“Hi, I’m Steve we talked yesterday on the phone about your Gregslist ad? You’re Harry, right?” He looked at me eyes wide and darting away from the door.

“Oh? Right, right,” I said throwing a hand over my shoulder and let out a loud yawn. Shit, I’d forgotten all about him. “Sorry had a late night. Why don’t you come in and we can do this thing?”

I moved away from the opening and Steve stepped inside. Once I closed the door behind him, I glanced around and held my hand up as I emitted another loud yawn. “Uh, wait a minute I’ll be right back.”

I slipped into my room and stopped dead in my tracks. I walked over to my nightstand and furrowed my brows.

What the fuck? The clumped up wad of paper was again sitting on my nightstand. I could have sworn I’d knocked it to the ground when I stumbled out of bed. It looked an awful lot like that weird catalog I’d found in the staircase. I shook my head, convinced I must have been mistaken, tossed the wad into the garbage and retrieved the item for which Steve had come.

I found him waiting where I’d left him and motioned toward the couch with an open hand. “Uh, I guess you’re gonna want a look at the merchandise.”

Steve nodded, took a seat, and I set the laptop down in front of him. He flipped the thing open and booted it up. I sat opposite him. “I put in new hinges, upgraded the ram, replaced the original hard drive with a solid state drive and did a clean install of the OS.”

Steve nodded, but didn’t say a word, eyes glued to the screen as he logged into the computer. I waited with bated breath, ever since I lost my job I’d been eking out a meager existence by refurbishing damaged laptops and other electronics. Some folks made good money that way, but I’d only been at it for less than half a year. While I was pretty good at repairing things, I wasn’t much of a people person.

Steve continued with his inspection, and I leaned back into my seat waiting for him to finish up. He continued for a good ten minutes before he flipped the notebook shut and looked back up at me. “I’ll take it.”

Next came the haggling, and as I expected, I ended up selling it for less than my original asking price, but it would be enough. The laptop hadn’t exactly been high end, and I’d come out of the deal with more than I’d put in. With some money I’d already collected from another repair job, I would have enough to pay rent for the month and not much else. I guessed I’d be living off ramen for the foreseeable future. I was getting real tired of scrimping by like this month after month. Shit, I needed to find a job and fast.

After letting Steven out I returned to my bedroom, just a little disconcerted to find that the paper wad had again found its way back onto my nightstand. Either someone was playing a prank on me or something strange was going on. As much as I strained my mind I couldn’t think of anyone beyond Jared or the super who might have access to my apartment and there would be no reason why either would punk me in such a manner.

I picked the ball of paper up, collapsed into bed and retrieved my phone from inside my pocket. I dialed Jared and put my cell against my ear while un-crumpling the wad with my free hand. Sure enough, it was the same catalog from the stairwell. I turned the thing back to front and began to flip through the pages as I waited for Jared to pick up, but he never did. So I left a message and hung up.

I set the phone down and eyed the catalog with all my attention. Again, I flipped through, this time looking for a website or a phone number and found neither. Instead, all I found was a P.O. Box. Thinking, perhaps, that it might be outdated, I looked for a copyright date and found one the very bottom of the back cover. It was less than a month old.

I wasn’t sure what convinced me the thing was authentic. The whole teleportation act it pulled seemed impressive, but, face it, with enough time I would have rationalized it. Maybe, I wanted it to be real. A part of me was still wary of the catalog, even if the items listed within were real, there was no telling how well they worked or if they worked the way they advertised.

I have to admit, the Mach-O-Blaster piqued my interest, for that matter, so did the Power Potion, but the item that really caught my eye was the cheapest in the entire book. It seemed a little ironic given the item’s intended purpose, but that didn’t raise the red flags it should have.

The catalog listing called it a Prosperity Spell and from what I could tell it was meant to help the user be successful in their future endeavors. Was it so surprising given my current predicament?

I was getting desperate, and tired of trying to eke out a meager existence on almost nothing. Something needed to change, or I’d be out on my ass in no time. Most people would scoff at ordering a spell out of a catalog, myself included, but the thought didn’t give me much pause.

I ended up sending in the five dollars with the order form. My budget was already slim, but that small amount of cash would not make a lot of difference. I just wish I’d read the small print before completing the order form, it would have saved me a lot of trouble.

#

Her hips swayed and her breasts jiggled with each step. She leveled her gaze on me and I stopped, ramen-packed grocery bags clenched in my hands and stared at her with wide eyes. She wore a skimpy little black formal dress, and she was easily the most attractive woman I’d ever laid eyes on shy of the television or big screen.

Something was wrong. I saw it in seconds. For one there was a strange vacant expression in her eyes, and for another she was moving straight toward me. Don’t get me wrong, I was far from ugly, but we didn’t even exist in the same league. Hell, I doubted she’d even give Jared a second glance, and women loved the guy.

The elevator doors started to close on me and I lurched forward letting the doors hit my shoulders and open back up. I eyed the woman, bit my lip and smiled. “Hey, how’s it going?”

She didn’t pause, or even acknowledge that she’d heard me, but just kept coming. I took a few awkward steps to the side and as I did so she turned to adjust course. Now, I don’t mean she turned upon seeing me step away, but did it in perfect sync with me. It was freaky as hell and it raised the old shackles on the back of my neck.

She held a little envelope in her hands and when she got close, she raised her hand holding it out to me. I froze and stared at her with wide eyes. She didn’t budge a muscle, keeping so still that she may well have been a statue.

I looked into her eyes and waved my hand in front of her face. She didn’t respond, but stayed in place hand still extended. When I took a step back, and she moved forward, again in sync with me.

I glanced toward my apartment door, contemplating making a run for it, but sheer morbid curiosity got the better of me. It was obvious she wanted me to take the thing, and I was dying to know what could be in it.

I gritted my teeth, shifted both bags of ramen into one hand and snatched the paper out of her outstretched palm. The moment I had it, she shook her head and looked around. It was almost as if someone had switched on a light inside her mind.

“Where the hell am I?!” She demanded her eyes settling on me.

“Uh, Shady Acres Apartments,” I replied.

She stood there eyeing me with a pair of striking blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. She lifted a wrist glancing at a jewel-encrusted watch that probably cost more than I’d made in the last year and started cursing under her breath.

“Dammit, I’m late!” She took off down the corridor, her high-heels clicking and clacking against the hardwood floors of the hallway. The tight little dress limited the movements of her leg and coupled with the height of her heels I thought for certain she’d lose her balance and take a tumble. Somehow she made it all the way to the elevator, and she soon disappeared through its shiny metal doors.

Like a jackass I stood there and watched the elevator doors, still, just a little freaked out by what had happened. It took me well over a minute before I had the bright idea to examine the envelope. It seemed ordinary enough, save that someone had sealed it with wax. There were no addresses or post office box numbers, but it had my name on the middle of the front. In the top left instead of a return address it listed Aethermysts Order Fulfillment Services.

If I’d had any doubts about the legitimacy of the catalog, their delivery method damn well put them to rest. I slipped the envelope into one of the grocery bags and walked straight for my apartment.

Once inside, I dropped both my grocery sacks onto the counter, retrieved the envelope from inside and plopped down on the couch tearing it open. Inside I found pretty much what I expected, directions for completing the prosperity spell that I’d ordered. It was all hand-written in a simple, impeccable script that resembled calligraphy, but which appeared to be written with a ballpoint pen.

I read it front and back and leaned back on the couch letting out a long sigh. The whole thing just seemed a little too good to be true, a prosperity spell that promised to bring wealth and well-being to whoever cast it and it had only set me back five dollars? I bit my lip and eyed a particular line at the very top of the paper that was just a little disconcerting.

‘Warning, be sure to follow the directions exactly as instructed and pronounce each portion of the spell as written. Failure to do so may result in transfiguration, and/or chronological displacement.’

I didn’t know what the fuck the warning meant, but, I think, it would give anyone pause. I almost crumbled the spell up and tossed it in the wastebasket, but stopped eyeing a second envelope sitting on the coffee table before me. It contained another bill.

I didn’t have more than a few dollars to my name and unless I sold half of the crap in my apartment, managed to sell another device or landed a repair job, I wouldn’t be able to pay it. I was getting damned tired of scrimping by just to make ends meet. The spell might be the answer to that.

So, against my better judgement I moved into the bedroom to retrieve what I needed. When I had a candle and a little lump of sidewalk chalk, I returned to the living room. The candle from a small supply I kept around in case of power outages, which were frequent in the area, and the chalk had been left by one of the previous tenants and I’d never bothered tossing it.

I pushed the couch out the way and upturned the ragged old rug that protected the hardwood floor. Had I any money, I would have replaced it months ago.

I plopped down, and put the paper down in front of me, as the instructions mentioned and drew a circle around myself. According to the spell, it would contain the thaumaturgic energies and prevent them from hemorrhaging into the worlds beyond. I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but it didn’t sound like something I wanted to happen. Needless to say, I was really careful while forming the ring.

Next, I put the unlit candle in front of me, clenched my eyes shut and started to chant the words on the paper as instructed. “Subponatis… Adolebitque illud… advocabit potestate.”

I opened my eyes and almost jumped out of the circle in sheer shock. The candle was lit! Fortunately, I kept still. I didn’t want to screw this up. I continued with the incantation, careful to read each line as specified. When I got to the final few bits of text, I paused sweat dripping down my whole body. I opened my mouth to speak the final few words, and the damned doorbell rang.

Startled, I jerked sideways and knocked the candle over. I didn’t dare leave the circle, I had no idea what kind of effect that might have in the middle of the spell. I righted the candle and glanced down at the spell reciting the final few words and then broke the circle. An odd tingling sensation coursed down my body as I stood and moved towards the door.

Before I got there, a sharp stabbing pain shot through my gut and I hunched over collapsing to my knees. The oddest sensation wove its way through my chest, and as I slipped my hands over one of my nipples, it swelled outward. I collapsed to the ground as my bones cracked and popped. My throat burned and I let out a single scream which sounded far too high-pitched to my ears, just before everything went dark.

#

A hand touched my shoulder, and I gasped my eyes snapping open. My vision was muddied at first, and my mind couldn’t quite grasp where I was. So I lay there squinting into a blurry blob of dull grays and browns, no doubt looking very perplexed. As my vision resolved itself, my mind snapped back into focus and I found myself looking into the face of a stranger. His lips moved, but I couldn’t quite make out what he said.

Like my sight, my hearing returned, and I grunted as the stranger’s words became clear to me. “—kay?”

I nodded and met his gaze. Memories of casting the spell returned to me and I sat bolt upright, my chest jiggling in a very disconcerting way. I swallowed hard and glanced down, confirming what I already suspected. A set of large breasts now protruded from my chest. I slid a hand down, touching them before swallowing again and dropped it between my legs. Though I couldn’t feel much through the fabric of my jeans, it was more what I didn’t feel that drove things home.

A strong breeze hit my face and for the first time I took in my surroundings. I was outside in an empty field. An old dirt road stretched into a treeline in the distance, a classic Ford pickup was parked just off to the side where they met and storm clouds darkened the sky. I didn’t recognize my surroundings, or the man who stood so close to me.

The warning on the spell sprang to mind and wondered if this might not be what it meant. My heart hammering in my chest, I raised both of my arms and touched my face. It seemed, different, wrong. All my stubble had gone, instead my skin was smooth and silky, and my nose was too small, but that was not all. Further, explorations revealed a set of soft lips, a missing Adam’s apple and

I glanced at the stranger and pursed my lips. “W-where am I?” My eyes bulged out of my head at the sound of my voice. It was soft and feminine, dare I say, sexy?

“Just off the Old Fork Road, Miss.” He said gazed at me his eyebrows shooting way up.

“Um,” I palmed my face with both hands. “What town is that in?”

“New Haven,” he said, and when I didn’t respond, he added. “That’s in Utah.”

I met his gaze and bit my lip and looked around again. “New Haven?”

I was more than a little familiar with New Haven, I knew it well. My apartment building was located there, and I’d been living in the general area for pretty much my entire life. I’d never heard of an ‘Old Fork Road’, but I didn’t know the name of every street in town. That being said, the place I’d landed myself in, didn’t look familiar at all. I wondered, could he be wrong?

New Haven was a tiny little landlocked town. There hadn’t been an empty field for as long as I could remember. Maybe before I’d been born, but…

Realization hit me like a ton of bricks and I held my breath. Without even thinking about it, I began to recount the warning message from the spell over and over in my head.

‘Warning, be sure to follow the directions exactly as instructed and pronounce each portion of the spell as written. Failure to complete any step correctly may result in transfiguration, and/or chronological displacement.’

Though I didn’t understand at the time, I now had an inkling of what those words must have meant.

I gritted my teeth, met my rescuer’s gaze and released the air out of my lungs. A wet trickle kissed my cheek and peered up just in time to catch another in the eye. I blinked wiping the drops from my face, but it was a futile effort as more followed. In moments, what started as a slight drizzle became a steady downpour.

“Can you stand?” My new friend asked.

I bit my lip, nodded and lurched from the ground. My feet slipped out of my shoes as I took my first few steps and I stumbled forward damn near falling face first, but my rescuer’s firm arms grabbed me by the shoulders and held me steady. The warmth of his body pressed into my new breasts and I stood there mesmerized by the strange new feelings that this awakened with me.

He cleared his throat and pulled away, and a cold shiver traveled down my spine. My heart hammered in my chest and it was all I could do just to look away. My new body responded to his touch in ways I didn’t want to admit.

“We should get out of the rain.” He smiled and held out his hand.

I nodded and accepted his hand. I don’t know why I felt I could trust him. Somehow I knew it would be all right and, if I was going to be honest, a part of me wanted to do more than just go with him.

I didn’t bother retrieving my shoes before we took off running again. They wouldn’t have fit me anyway, my rescuer glanced back at them, but shook his head and sighed, no doubt thinking better of it. My pants sagged from my waist, but caught around my wider hips. My pants slipped down past my ankle and over my feet, and even though they flopped about as I ran, I kept at it. I tripped over them once, but again Trey caught me. It wasn’t long before we reached the pickup I’d spotted earlier. I got there first and stopped panting for breath outside the passenger side door.

My body seemed so alien, but one area was particularly troublesome while running. My breasts jiggled and shook with every movement and the faster I went the worse it got. It actually hurt a little. No wonder women wore sports bras.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I jerked out of the way allowing my rescuer to open the door for me. I jumped inside and whipped my hand out to close the door behind me, but my rescuer beat me to it. I hugged my knees against my chest and rolled my pant legs up as I waited for him to climb on the other side.

I glanced down at my breasts again staring at them with wide eyes, still trying to wrap my head around my transformation. My clothes were soaked through and my nipples showed through the shirt. I’d never liked the way a wet t-shirt had clung against my skin, but now that I had breasts it was worse. Particularly since the shirt stretched tighter across the chest than it ever had been before my transformation.

“You got a name?” My rescuer asked, and I turned in time to see him swing the driver’s side door shut behind him.

“I, uh,” I stopped mind racing trying to come up with a name to throw out, but I couldn’t quite form the words.

He turned to eye me and began to panic.

“Linda,” I spoke the first name that came to me and it left a sour taste in my mouth just to speak the lie, but I saw no other option.

If I’d guessed right, I had not been born yet. Even if I was wrong, and I’d landed myself in some area of New Haven, I’d never been before, which seemed unlikely, there was no way to prove my identity. So, I could either tell everyone what had happened or play it safe and put on a bit of a show. Since, the former of my two options stood a good chance of landing me in a mental institution the latter seemed the wiser choice.

“Linda?” he said eyeing me for a moment before starting the pick up. “I’m John Benedict Travis the third, but all my friends call me Trey.”

I froze, and folded my arms across my chest, very aware of Trey’s eyes on my breasts.

“Pleasure,” I mumbled and cold chills trickling down my spine. I shuddered and looked out at the rain drenched expanse. Even though I’d been chilled to the bone, the shiver had nothing to do with my clothes being soaked through or the temperature outside. John “Trey” Travis had been the name of Linda’s husband.

I knew of the implications, but I wouldn’t allow myself to accept what they must mean. It was a coincidence, nothing more.

Trey, watched for a moment, then slipped his jacket off and handed it to me. “Sorry, it’s not much, but once the heater kicks in, I’m sure you’ll be warm enough.” He smiled at me, shifted the vehicle into gear, and started down the road.

“Is there somewhere I can take you Linda?” He asked glancing at me before returning his gaze to the road ahead.

I bit my lip and shook my head. “No, I’m not from around here and the truth is I’m not sure how I got here.”

In a way, it was true, but it still seemed like a lie to my ears. I leaned forward and slipped his jacket on. Though huge on me, it did help warm me.

“It’s funny we don’t usually get rain like this. Doesn’t look like it’ll get better any time soon. I’ll take you back to my place and get you some dry clothes. You look about the same size as my wife. We should be able to find you something.”

“You’re married?” I asked, thinking perhaps I’d encountered a different Trey Travis, but his answer shot that theory to hell.

“I used to be, she passed away last spring.”

“S-sorry.” I eyed him, another shudder rippling down my spine.

“You had no way of knowing. When we get there, I’ll put in a call to Sheriff Riley. He’s a friend of mine, if anyone out there is looking for you he should be able to find out.”

It made sense, from his perspective, if ‘Linda’ had gone missing someone might have filed a missing persons report. Linda hadn’t existed until I’d woken up in that field, so any effort on their part would be a big old waste of time. If I felt guilty before it was nothing compared to the pit that formed in the bottom of my stomach.

“Do—,” I glanced over at him my lips quivering. I never finished the sentence. I gritted my teeth suppressing the urge to break down in tears. Some people might think all the girly hormones now coursing through my new female body were responsible, but under the circumstances almost anyone would be bawling their eyes out.

The spell had transformed me into a woman and more than likely transported me back in time. On top of that, I had no legal identity. Which meant, no social security, no credit score and no citizenship. I was a man, make that woman, who had been cut off from everything and everyone I’d ever known. The chances of going back to my old life were slim to none and as miserable as it was, it had been familiar. Now that my whole life had been thrown out the window, I didn’t have any idea what to do with myself. I’d seen grown men cry over less.

Hot tears stung my cheeks, and I hunched over just letting them come. Trey glanced over at me and smiled. “Hey now, it’ll be all right. You hear me? We’ll get this thing figured out.”

His words actually helped provide some small comfort, but still I cried. Save for the occasional sob escaping my lips, we spent the rest of the car ride in silence. I leaned into Trey’s side and he wrapped an arm around my waist. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, least of all myself, but it made my heart flutter. What the hell was wrong with me?

#

I stood staring at myself in the mirror and found myself looking at my reflection with wide eyes. The girl who looked back at me bore more than a passing resemblance to the Linda I’d known. The more time I spent in my new body the more I became convinced that I had, in fact, become her or, at least, a past version of her. I hadn’t realized how much of a looker she’d been in her youth until I’d become her.

It had been more than a week, since Trey found me in that field and in that time I was no closer to wrapping my head around what happened.

In the short time since then, I played my cards well. The police, and the folks at the hospital had all bought my act. All I had to do was bat my eyelashes, and they fell for it it all hook, line and sinker. It was frightening how easy it had been. There had been a few local officers who expressed suspicion, but with no proof they dropped the matter.

Trey hauled me off to the hospital, and they did the obligatory physical examinations and the police took my fingerprints and ran a background check. They turned up nothing. Since I showed no signs of physical injury, the doctor’s thought I might be suffering from dissociative amnesia, basically memory loss brought on by serious mental trauma I let them think that given that the alternative was a one-way trip to the loony bin.

I came up with some bullshit backstory about moving across the country to start a new life. Though ‘Linda’ remembered bits and pieces of her old life she didn’t recall enough to be of any help. She possessed very little money and just enough cash to get where she needed to go, but even her destination she did not remember. When I woke up in the field, I had nothing and so neither did my new persona. Her car and what little money she had disappeared along with most of her memories or would have if they’d existed in the first place. The details didn’t matter, it was just another damn lie anyway, but it ate me up inside. I kept hearing my mother’s voice in my head telling me she had raised me better than that.

Trey offered to give me a place to stay until I got my feet off the ground and I accepted. Grateful for a place to stay, I took him up on his offer, but it made me uncomfortable as hell staying in the home of a strange man that wanted to fuck me. That wasn’t even the worst part, though. I wanted to fuck him too.

When I peered back into the mirror, I shook my head, and cast such thoughts out of my head.

I bit my lip and began to unbutton the blouse I wore. It had been difficult, but I’d spent the time since my rescue avoiding even glancing in the direction of a mirror. I tried my damnedest to pretend that I was still regular old Harry, but Trey made that difficult, if not impossible. I ignored the fact that his eyes always seemed to focus on my chest, or at least I pretended to. I didn’t blame him. If I were occupying the same space as the living personification of a goddess I would have a hard time keeping my eyes to myself too.

When I’d woken up that morning, I’d concluded that I wouldn’t bury my head in the sand any longer and that was how I’d found myself looking in the mirror.

The clothes I wore, a button up blouse and a pair of sweats belonged to Tray’s wife Mary, and they fit me rather well. I couldn’t bring myself to wear any of her nightgowns, they’d all been so very feminine and it seemed wrong wearing something she’d worn in the bedroom. Every time I looked at them I imagined Trey making love to her… and more often than not, me in her clothing.

I often fantasized about him, which disturbed me more than anything. Since, my transformation, I didn’t have eyes for the fairer sex. Before my change, it had been easy to conjure images of myself making love to beautiful women, but try as I might I couldn’t bring such fantasies to life inside of my mind. I even tried to arouse myself by thinking of some of my former girlfriends and what I’d done to them in bed, but it just didn’t do it for me anymore.

Soon, the shirt was off and I found myself looking at a nice set of breasts in the mirror. I hadn’t gotten around to getting fitted for a bra, and I’d been walking around with them hanging there on my chest unrestricted beneath my clothes. In times past, if I saw such a pair of glorious tits I would have found it difficult to keep my eyes off them, but while they held my rapt attention it was for very different reasons. I experienced no arousal whatsoever.

I looked young, perhaps in my early twenties, my breasts had not begun to sag. I’d regressed in age almost a decade, given a form that was vivacious in every sense of the word and while I think a lot of women would have been envious, all I experienced was disgust. Sometimes I didn’t even feel like myself. Every movement, every sensation, seeming wrong.

I cupped my boobs, not for the first time, but with more attention to detail than before. They were firm, firmer than any set I’d ever laid hands on. Even ones half their size.

Next, I slid my hands down my side and unclasped the button on my jeans. I leaned over to slide them down my legs and glanced up at my reflection. It still unnerved me to see that girl in the mirror. I stood full upright and eyed her.

The only piece of clothing I wore were my panties. They would come off later once I’d gotten a better look at the rest of my body. My vulva would be too great of a distraction if it too were exposed.

If the spell had been designed to create my ideal woman, it couldn’t have done any better. Before my transformation I liked my women soft, and Linda was exactly that. She wasn’t fat, but nor was she skinny, merely what I would consider an ideal weight. Her hips were wide, and she possessed an ass that just didn’t quit. She had slim shoulders, and hair done up in a masculine style exactly as it had been when I was male, save that it was now a fiery red where before it had been a dull brown. It seemed odd to me, that my haircut alone would be the only thing that had not changed, but it was the least of my worries.

There wasn’t a single blemish on my entire body as far as I could tell. No cellulite, moles or a single freckle. I had the body the likes of which I had only believed existed in magazines until that day. Perhaps through surgery someone might achieve such a figure, but, it would take dozens of procedures to receive results that even came close to what I saw before me.

I stood holding my breath taking in every detail, every little curve for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably closer to a few seconds. Then, I let all the air out of my lungs and slipped my panties free from my waist and over my hips before letting them fall to the ground.

Like the rest of my physique, my vagina was, perhaps, too perfect, but as I stood there eying the god-forsaken thing in the mirror, I only hesitated for the briefest of seconds before plunging my finger inside. The sensations that arose were pleasurable.

My eyes widened, and I found thoughts of Trey coming to me unbidden. I pursed my lips, emitting a soft moan as I slid my finger in and out of my clit. Though I’d heard it said that arousal worked differently for women than it did in men, never until that moment did I realize how wide the gap was. I slid a hand up my chest and messaged my left nipple even as the other one worked its magic on my nether regions.

Things might have been taken a step further, had it not been for one thing. I sensed rather than saw, the doorknob moving and I turned just in time to witness the door swing open.

“Linda, I thou—” He stopped mid sentence, and just stood there wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

My heart hammered in my chest and I too stood there frozen looking back at him with my jaw hanging open. In that moment, something changed in me.

It was sparked by the realization that I would never go back to being the person who I was before. It had only been a fluke that I’d discovered the catalog and it was unlikely I’d ever be able to track down another copy if it even existed yet. I could spend all my time living in denial or I could accept what the spell had done to me and move forward in my life.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry. I thought you’d be in bed,” Trey said still frozen in place.

What I did next surprised even me. I didn’t attempt to cover myself, but instead sauntered toward him, my hips and ass swaying to some unheard tune. Though I’d seen women move like that before, never in my life would I have suspected I would be able to pull it off myself. I don’t know if it was something that was natural to every woman, or if perhaps it was something that came with my hyper-sexualized body. The truth was I was beginning to care less and less.

I suspected that this change in attitudes may have been a side effect from the spell, and it scared me more than a little. That being said, there would be no stopping myself. I wanted Trey, no, I needed him to do things that would have been unthinkable just moments ago.

When I got close, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him toward me. He didn’t resist and our lips locked, sharing a kiss that took my breath away. He put his arms around me, and soon I found myself spread full eagle atop the bed. I wasn’t sure if I had pulled him toward it or if he had pushed me atop it, but either way the result was the same.

It didn’t matter. All I knew was that he was on his knees atop the bed ready to fuck. My hands slid up his waistband, and I pulled his belt free and I tossed it sideways. I heard the buckle clink against the wall, but I neither saw nor cared where it landed.

Soon, I was looking at his cock, and a nervous grin spread across my face as he lowered his body and plunged it into me. If my eyes had been wide before, I’m sure, it was nothing compared to how they looked then. There was a pressure inside of me, a tightness that left me gasping for air. God it was amazing, and yet, it hurt a little too. His lips touched my neck, and his hands kneaded my breasts. I screamed out, in exquisite agony as he pulled out and plunged his member deep inside of me again.

I didn’t have any idea how long we went at it. It might well have been hours or minutes. We did things to one another for which I didn’t have words. I’d never made love so passionately. Which made me realize just how selfish I had been before my change. I released my load and been done with it.

It was clear Trey knew how to pleasure a woman and for that education I was very grateful. Never had I imagined what it must feel like for a woman nor had I imagined I would ever be so vocal. I couldn’t help myself every time he kissed me in just the right place, my heart fluttered and my loins burned with desire. Sweat ran from every pour, as our passions evoked a heat the likes I had yet to experience. Bodily fluids dripped from every orifice, and every time his hands touched my breasts or slid down the nape of my back, I shivered.

When he released his load, and I found myself panting for air. He rolled off me and lay there looking up at the ceiling, my heart still hammering inside of my chest. I should have been in a frenzy, but all I felt was the warm afterglow of our lovemaking. Panic would come later.

#

The change that had come upon me when Trey and I had been making love was not something that I knew how to articulate, but it marked the beginning of the end for Harry and sparked my journey to becoming Linda. It didn’t take place all at once, nor did I let it happen without a fight.

Three months came and went and in that time I’d almost gotten used to seeing Linda looking back at me in the mirror. I barely even thought of myself as Harry anymore, which was what terrified me. I’d had several periods and in an odd way I felt as if it was an initiation, but even so I was only just beginning to understand what it meant to be a woman.

Trey and I made love, frequently, and it was one of the few things that I didn’t regret. He made me think that it might somehow all be worth it. When we fucked, it didn’t matter if I was Harry or Linda. Everything just made sense. It was one of those times that helped put the final nail in Harry’s coffin.

Trey spent his day off in the field tending to his animals and when he got back, I saw hunger in his eyes. I might have wondered what had ignited his interest, but I knew from the moment his eyes met mine that it was all me. I answered with the same hunger, damn near flying across the room to get to him.

Our lips locked and the next thing I knew I was down on my back atop the counter. That was another thing about our liaisons they weren’t ever bound by the restrictions of a single room. Although, I must admit that this was the first time we’d fucked in the kitchen.

I shivered and shook my head, clearing my mind of distracting thoughts. It had been weeks since that event and the memory of it still burned bright in my mind. Our lovemaking had been passionate and wild. I’d been little better than an animal, but neither had Trey.

I looked down at the home pregnancy test clenched in my hands. In my time, they had come a long way from their earliest days. The one I was holding in my hands was among the first that had been commercially available in the United States. They’d only been out a few years and as yet hadn’t evolved into the much simpler little sticks that my partners would use.

The whole process was easy, you put some pee, water, and the provided chemicals into the tube, shake the hell out of the thing and stand it up inside of the little case that came with it. Then you waited, two fucking hours. The waiting was the worst part.

This was only the second time I’d used one. The first being after the morning Trey had walked in on me naked and we’d made love for the first time. After that incident Trey used a condom, but when we fucked that day in the kitchen our passion got the better of us and we hadn’t been thinking with our heads on straight.

I’d already waited the prerequisite two hours. So I looked into the little box, peering into the little mirror, and my breath caught in my throat.

I dropped it and it clinked and clattered on the hard linoleum floor. The vial fell out and rolled across the floor and I bent over to retrieve both. By some miracle neither broke, but, truth be told, I kind of wish they had. At least then it would have given me something to do with my hands.

I leaned my back against the wall and sank down to my knees my heart hammering inside my chest. The results were correct, I knew it in my heart, but I damn well intended to get it confirmed by a doctor. I sat there for quite a while, before I stood up and tossed everything in the trash bin. If I waited too long Trey would come looking for me so I moved out of the bathroom heading down the hallway toward the kitchen where he was waiting.

I had a little casserole baking in the oven and Trey was seated at the kitchen table reading the paper, waiting for dinner to finish. He was often up before the local periodical arrived so it had become something of a habit for him to read it after he’d gotten home.

I sat across from him and just stared off into space. Trey didn’t stop to greet me, we’d already shared our hellos at the door. He paused after a moment, lowered the paper down and eyed me. “Looks like they’re renaming Old Fork Road, to Wilson Avenue.”

Wilson Avenue was the name of the road they would eventually build my old apartment building on. Again, I held my breath, but I didn’t say a word. The field I’d woken up on was Trey’s property and I knew that it would become home to Shady Acres. Trey had inherited a pretty penny from his parents, a lot more than his neighbors new, far more than you’d expect from a simple farmer.

He eyed me, put down the paper and cleared his throat. “Linda, what wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I stared at him and shook my head hot tears stream drowning my cheeks. I opened my mouth, attempting to form the words, but I couldn’t find the words.

“Linda what is it?” He asked again.

I let out a long sigh and forced myself to speak. “I-I’m pregnant.”

Somehow, I hadn’t seen it coming. Linda and Trey were Jared’s parents. A part of me must have realized that if I stayed with Trey I’d get myself knocked up, but I hadn’t expected it so soon.

Trey, didn’t react as I expected. He was out of his seat, in a flash and pulled me up off my feet. He enfolded me in his arms and kissed me full on the lips. I melted in his arms and when we broke for air, I put my head on his shoulder.

“You gonna be okay?”

I nodded, my tears dripping down his chest. “The neighbors will talk.”

The truth was the neighbors were already talking. Trey and I hadn’t made our relationship a secret, and the town was mainly populated by Mormons and a handful Catholics so it went without being said our pre-marital activities would get the town gossip mill all in a flurry.

“Let them,” he whispered, and I just stood there lost in his embrace. Whatever part of me that was still holding on to my masculinity faded away in that moment. For all intents and purposes, it was the final death knell for Harry. He would always be a part of me, but I would never think of myself as him again. I was Linda, and that was just fine.

“Trey, I love you.” I spoke the words, without a moment’s hesitation. I pulled away to gauge his reaction, both of my hands on his shoulders.

He stared at me for a moment, before a smile stretched across his face. “I love you too.”

Crying anew, I collapsed into his arms. I wasn’t crying out of fear or shock, but joy. For the first time, I thanked my lucky stars that I had found that catalog. I’d never been happier in all my life.

One thing was for certain, if I ever got a hold of that catalog, I knew a certain stairway where I could stash it.

#

The End

Santa Babe

Author's Note

I’ve sat on this story for more than a year, but I finally decided to dust it off and finish it just in time for Christmas. It’s a little more ‘fetishy’ than my usual stuff, but I hope you like it.

“Ho, ho, oh no!” The fat bastard rolled out of the sled falling face first and produced a thud that shook the whole damn roof.

“Clumsy old coot,” I grumbled under my breath and hopped out of the sleigh to help my red velvet attired boss back to his feet.

Not that I was much fucking help. The old man was over three feet taller than me and weighed at least four times as much. Regardless the big man was back on his feet, velvet bag slung over his shoulder, staggering toward the chimney.

I shook my head, glanced about the roof, spotted Santa’s flask and swooped down to retrieve it. He must have dropped the damned thing when he took his little tumble. I glanced back at the big man, then opened the container and took a good whiff. “Say what you will about him, but the man has great taste,” I mumbled and took a sip of the whiskey inside. “I wish he’d stop drinking on the fucking job.”

I slipped the flask into his belt, as elves do not have pockets, and turned back toward the chimney just in time to watch the big man disappear inside. For being so drunk, he sure seemed to haul major ass.

I grumbled a dozen or so choice curses under my breath, and followed suit, hopping inside with a single gravity-leap that no human could duplicate.

The thing about modern chimneys most people don’t realize is that although the opening atop the roof is wide, they taper down to a much smaller hole just big enough to let the smoke out. A mortal, even one who wasn’t a huge fat ass, like Santa, would never have been able to fit through. Lucky, for us, neither Santa nor myself were mortals.

When I emerged I found the big man stumbling about and dragging the bag through the room while sloshing an open bottle of brandy all over Hal McCain’s living room carpet.

What the actual fuck? How the hell had he gotten hold of another damn bottle?

It hadn’t always been like this. In his heyday, Santa had been the jolly gift-giver of which the stories all spoke, but ever since he’d walked in on his old lady fucking the hell out of Jack Frost he hadn’t been the same. He’d picked up the bottle a few months after his wife left and hadn’t put it down since. That was a little over a decade ago and as you can image it had been a living hell.

It was about goddamned time someone put a stop to it. I clenched both fists at my side glowered at the fat son of a bitch and pounced on the fucker. Santa was even more bombed than usual, so it was damned easy to walk up and yank the bottle out of his wrinkled old hand, but I was so angry that I used a lot more force than I needed. For my troubles, I managed to splattering alcohol all over the front of my tunic.

“God dammit,” I cursed, wiping it off as best I could and glared up at ol’ Nick between gritted teeth. “Look man, this has gotta stop, I know you miss her, but, shit, look what you’re doing to yourself.”

Santa didn’t say a word, instead raising a single white-gloved hand, index-finger held up, swallowed hard and let out a belch to end all belches. Goddamned it smelled so bad it brought tears to my eyes.

Santa turned away and dug through his bag. At first, I assumed the asshole was retrieving gifts for Hal and his son but then the wily old bastard produced another bottle, this one filled with a pink fluid, from inside the sack.

There was a reason Santa could deliver so many gifts to the entire world without going to and from the North Pole hundreds of thousands of times a night. His sack wasn’t so much of a bag as a portal through space and time. He could reach through and retrieve any item inside the workshop. I’d once seen him pull a tool chest out to render repairs to his sled.

I should have figured he’d try something along those lines. That must have been how he’d gotten hold of the brandy. I cursed myself and extended a hand to grab the pink fluid out of his hands, but the old man jerked back before I could even get close.

What the hell kind of drink was it? Although elves enjoyed many fruity and sweet concoctions in our off hours, they were stored separately from the ones in the workshop. Despite the old man’s love of cookies and sweets, his taste in alcohol tended toward spirits and liqueurs. So either, someone was sneaking drinks on the job or…

“Oh shit,” I cursed under my breath as realization dawned on me.

It wasn’t an alcoholic beverage that the old man had retrieved from the bag per se, but a potion and if I was right about which one I needed get it away from the big guy. I made another grab for the bottle, but he pushed me away. For my efforts I stumbled forward and fell flat on my face.

I scrambled back to my feet, but by then he’d already unstopped the bottle. My heart skipped a beat as he downed damn near half in one gulp.

Santa beamed down at me, and I stared back at him with wide eyes waiting for the changes to happen. The old fucker had no clue what he’d just consumed. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but as he brought the potion up to his lips, he grunted and jerked forward, collapsing to his knees.

I lurched forward, throwing my hands out to catch the potion as he fell, but not before I splattered the remaining contents all over the front of my tunic.

“Dammit all to hell,” I gritted my teeth attempting to wipe it away with my sleeve of my shirt, but it had already soaked through. It fizzled against my skin.

Santa groaned, and I stared up at him watching as his flesh rippled. I’d never seen the potion at work before, but I knew what to expect. It would be a quick transformation, but the process would be far from painless.

I watched my mouth agape as his bowl full of jelly, he had been so careful to maintained over so many centuries, dissolved into his body save for two lumps that rolled his now flat belly and into his chest taking up residence around his nipples. His pants fell down around his ankles and I could not look away though the old man wore no underwear.

His body creaked and popped and he fell onto his side and I could see his hips shifting around. Bones were shattering and re-fusing back together, I had no illusion that what he was experiencing was painful beyond imagining.

He gasped and moaned with each new change. His spine creaked, and it snapped inward curving and taking on a more feminine alignment. The old man’s arms came next, fat melted away bones and muscle popped and shifted. His nails jagged and dirty, smoothed out and grew out from his finger tips, taking on a glossy red cast that was the perfect match for his coat.

Everywhere the changes swept across his form, muscles and bones reformed, fat drained away and piece by piece his body became soft and very, very womanlike. I swallowed hard and watched as his shoulders, legs, feet and everything left in between succumbed to the magic of the potion.

He groaned, reaching for his crotch as his male parts shrunk into his body, in their place formed a vulva. His hands slipped away from his privates, up his chest and over his neck. He grabbed fistfuls of his beard hair and I watched tears streaming down my face as the hair fell to the ground revealing the face beneath. It was the countenance of a stranger, unassuming and average. No elf had gazed upon the beardless face of Saint Nicholas in living memory.

I stared into his eyes breath caught in my throat. He emitted another moan, but this time it sounded too soft… too feminine. I watched his facial features contort, and after his nose shrunk, his skin tightened and his lips filled out I looked into the face of a very attractive young woman. The only familiar feature that remains was his bright blue eyes, and they had a sparkle to them I’d not seen in years.

Santa sighed, and pulled her stocking cap free from her head, white hairs fluttered to the ground at her feet and long brown hair exploded from her head in ringlets.

She glanced down at her hands, flexing her long delicate finger a slow smile forming on her face. I watched her climb to her feet, no longer lurching or jerking about. Her movements were fluid, relaxed, and very deliberate. I don’t know if the transformation had burned the alcohol out of her body or if it was a result of some other side effect, but it was clear it had sobered her up.

She stepped out of her boots, revealing her dainty feet resplendent in red nail polish.

I cleared my throat and Santa turned her head staring upon me with those sparkling blue eyes. “Santa… the Aphrodite formula. What have you done?”

“Ho, ho, ho.” It sounded so odd coming from such a feminine voice and yet… there was a merriness to it that only the true Santa could ever manage. She smirked at me, dropped her coat and I stood there cheeks burning as I stared upon her naked form.

I had never seen the like, elf women were stick thin and had little in the way of a figure. Santa, in her transformed body was not fat by any means, but she had curves. Her ass was round and her breasts were large. God, I wanted to squeeze them.

I coughed and turned away, my cheeks burning. God, this was Santa for hell sakes I couldn’t be thinking such thoughts about her even if she looked like that.

I sensed movement and risked another look. She snapped her fingers and her magic swirled to life all around her. Her coat, trousers and boots rose into the air spinning in a dizzying array of color. The coat and trousers wrapped around her body, conforming to her new curves, but not in their previous form. The fabric ripped and tore and wove back together, the white fur trim slithered along the outside of the hem taking up residence along the bottom of the new garment and around the neck in a V-shape that helped hold up the new dress.

It was a form-fitting sleeveless velvet dress that left little to the imagination. It accentuated her new curves rather than concealed them.

Her boots came next, splitting open and then wrapping around her feet. Twisting and contorting as they climbed up her legs stopping a few inches below her knees. The heels rose, and Santa stumbled forward, throwing a hand up to help balance herself. A pair of candy cane earrings appeared dangling from her ears. Her fingers touched her face and when she brought them away, I felt weak in the knees. She had been beautiful before, but with the cosmetics that now adorned her face she looked the part of a goddess.

I swallowed hard and glanced down at the bottle. They had abandoned the Aphrodite formula for good reason. The elves who’d created it hadn’t been able to reverse the effects. In small doses it would wear off in time, but Santa had consumed more than enough to make it permanent. Worse, it didn’t just transform the person who drank it, it made them like their new form and it made them libidinous… very libidinous.

“You know… Samson,” Santa bit her finger and smiled down at me. Her eyes sparkled, and I felt a sense of dread come over me as I recognized that look. “I believe Hal has been a very naughty boy this year.”

“Santa!” I called after her as she sashayed further into the McCain home. She’d already adjusted to her form, another effect of the potion. Her hips swayed with the casual and fluid grace of a natural born woman. “Please, let me take you back to the workshop. The elders can figure something out.”

My cries fell on deaf ears. I watched her disappear, then with the bottle still in hand, I growled under my breath and followed her. How the hell was I going to explain this? Santa turned into some sex crazed nympho? The elders would blame me, I knew it. They had commanded me to keep a close watch on Santa and keep her from doing anything too rash. This was not what anyone had expected, but it was rash.

When I caught up to her, I grabbed her hand and dug my heals in. “Please, stop!”

“Sammie,” she turned back and smiled down at me a hand touching reaching out to touch my cheek. She stood there staring into my eyes then glanced down at my chest where the alcohol and potion had soaked through the tunic. “It’s all right. You’ll understand soon.”

I stared at her mouth hanging open as she slipped her hand free and moved away. This time I didn’t stop her. It didn’t even occur. By the time I came to my senses she’d slipped into the master bedroom. Where Hal McCain, single father, slept.

My heart hammered in my chest as I looked inside. I knew what to expect, but even so I thought my eyes might pop out of my head when I saw her dress fall to the ground at her feet.

“Hal,” she called the name, a siren luring him back into the waking world. I opened my mouth ready to call out and remind Santa of her identity, but stopped when I felt a stabbing pain in the pit of my stomach. I hunched over, clutching at my gut, baffled. Another jolt, shot through my body and I bit my lip glancing down at the label on the bottle.

‘Aphrodite potion. Warning: Intended for human use only. Avoid skin contact.’

I swallowed hard and dropped the bottle, watching it shatter as my inside twisted and turn. My bones cracked and popped and piece by piece my flesh bent and contorted into unfamiliar new proportions. Unlike, my boss I did not have much fat on my body, but in most ways my transformation mirrored his. Instead of fat being repositioned or fading away, it materialized and expanded where my new proportions required it. My legs, torso and arm flashed in agony, snapping and popping as they extended out. I was growing beyond elf proportions.

When the transformation ended, I knelt panting and gasping for breathe. My tunic was so tight, it was all I could do to bring in breathe. I glanced down at my body and looked down at a set of large breasts. I gritted my teeth, straining to bring in air. My lungs burned.

I tore at the tunic, my heart hammering in my chest even quicker than before. Already strained by my change and torn in several places, the fabric gave way to my green-coated nails. As my new bosoms sprang free, I remained there taking in deep breaths.

When I caught my breath, I fell onto my rump, startled to realize I had a lot more padding than I was accustomed. I looked down, giving myself my first good look over. Like Santa, I’d taken on a far more voluptuous form. A nice rack, curved spine and an ass I could have sunk my teeth into. Not to mention I’d grown several feet. I looked like some ridiculous play thing. I slid a hand up the side of my head, slipping it under my new strawberry-blond locks to find purchase around my ears and let out a long sigh when my fingers touched the point. Though I had grown to human proportions, I’d retained the most important trait of elfhood.

I cupped my bare breasts and bit my lips feeling a slow smile creep onto my face. My mind raced as I felt a new stirring awaken within me.

Why had I been so terrified by Santa’s transformation? I felt amazing.

I heard moaning from the bedroom and peeked inside feeling my cheeks burn. Santa, and Hal were going at it like rabbits. He was coming down on her hard. I licked my lips and glanced down at myself one final time. God, I wanted to join in.

I rose to my feet and stepped into the doorway. Though, like Santa I could have snapped my fingers and transfigured my clothing, it would have been a wasted effort. I tore at the shredded remains of my tunic and let the pieces flutter to the ground in a trail behind me as I moved into the room. My tights came free, in shreds and clumps, already strained by my thick thighs and longer legs. My shoes burst open, unable to contain my new larger feet as I moved. Though short by human standards, I had gone from the size of a small toddler to a small adult human.

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks burn as what I was about to do hit home. Not in my many thousands of years would I have ever once considered engaging in such acts. Samson was a dried up old prune, Sammie, on the other hand, was very horny.

A hand touched my thigh and my face stretched back into a smile as Santa pulled me toward the bed. All resistance melted away and soon I felt Santa’s soft lips on my breasts and Hal’s large dick throbbing inside me. Not once in centuries worth of existence have I felt such pleasure nor had I ever screamed until my throat went raw.

I flexed my hands in front of my face, still not able to believe what I’d done or I didn’t seem to mind. Glancing down at myself, my cheeks burned as some remnant of the old Samson rose to the surface. My old self would have died at the very thought of any elf wearing something so revealing, but now it seemed, almost natural.

I wore no shirt, or blouse, but instead a red and white stripped bra as a top. A matching set of stripped stockings covered my legs, and instead of the more tradition elf-shoes I now wore a pair of black stiletto heels. A green stocking cap adorned my head and instead of tights I wore a tight green mini skirt with white lace along the bottom and a traditional belt with a brass buckle to hold it up. I looked sexy as fuck and I didn’t feel at all ashamed to admit it to myself.

I watched Santa climb into the sleigh and felt my cheeks burn anew. Our relationship had taken an unexpected twist and nothing would ever be the same between us, but as I looked her over, I felt my breath catch in my throat. Before her transformation, Santa had been worn out and tired, within her new form I saw a renewed energy and vigor. Though she had changed in almost every way conceivable, in some ways I saw the old Santa returned.

There was that familiar child-like joy and merriment that had so defined her before Mrs. Claus betrayal and it warmed my heart to see it return. Even the reindeer had picked up on it, their heads perked up at the mere site of her. There was a magic bond between the animals and their mistress, one which ensured they would always know the Clause no matter what form she took.

Santa leaned forward and glanced at me licking her lips. She slipped a hand behind my back and pulled me forward, locking her lips around mind. She smelled of chocolate chip cookies and tasted of peppermints.

When we broke for air, I cleared my throat and peered out across the horizon. We had all the time in the world, amongst Santa’s abilities was the power to create bubbles of time. While the rest of the world remained frozen, Santa could get to work delivering presents and climbing down chimneys. Though I would have loved to strip Santa naked and fuck her silly, I felt compelled to continue onward. It was, after all, my sworn duty as one of Santa’s elves to help her deliver gifts. I bit my lip and turned back to the boss lady. “Where to now?”

Santa smirked, retrieving the reins and met my gaze. “Krissy Delaney. She’s been very naughty this year.”

My face lit up at the prospect as the sleigh lurched forward. Santa called out that all too familiar command. “Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!”

It was the first time in decades, I’d heard her speak those words with such passion and joy. If I hadn’t been for the potion that might have been what had convinced me that Santa’s transformation was for the better, but after my metamorphosis I had needed no convincing.

I shuddered as he went hurtling through the air. Not from the cold, my magic protected me from even the harshest of winter weather. No, I trembled at the prospect of what a visit to Krissy Delaney would entail. She was a lingerie model and the Christmas Catalog she’d been featured in this year had been very popular among the younger male denizens of the North Pole this year. Not in my wildest fantasied had I ever dreamed she might give me the time of day, but I was confident that was no longer true. If she lived up to her reputation, I knew we could have a lot of fun.

I felt within myself a renewed appreciation and joy for the holiday that had become tedious. Something I’d not experienced since I was a young elf of just a few hundred years. Steeped in tradition, the elders would have their misgivings, but I knew where I could find a few more bottles of the Aphrodite formula. One way or another they would come around to our way of thinking. I licked my lips at the prospect and smiled. Christmas was about to become a whole lot sexier.

Devil’s Due (Revised)

Author's Note

Since, it’s Halloween I thought I’d take a break from our regularly scheduled serial posting and share a story that was just perfect for the occasion. While not exactly new it’s almost a complete rewrite, and is more than double the length than the original. I’m finally going to bring this story into the official cannon for my open universe Tales from Meridian (the rules of which can be found by visit the open universes page.) The original can still be found on this site, but it will forever remain a standalone and not part of the Meridian-verse.

I’d always heard stories, we all have. I mean, I didn’t think they were real. Who really does any more?

The devil was about as real to me as the Tooth Fairy or Santa Clause, but then something happened that shot all those perceptions to hell. I’d met a woman, a beautiful one, and she’d offered me everything I’d ever wanted and more. At first, I was skeptical, but then she showed me things, amazing and terrifying things and I didn’t find it so hard to believe anymore. Truth be told she terrified me, but when I saw what she could do, I wanted in and so I signed on the dotted line and I accepted her price, my soul.

Had I understood what that meant, I never would have agreed, but I was young and stupid. To me a soul was just a word. What she promised seemed to be too good to pass up and what did I get in return? Money and fame. Who would turn that down?

Within hours of our deal, I got a call from a casting director saying that she wanted me to audition for a part. Whatever doubts of the authenticity of the woman’s claims I might have had were promptly vanquished. Meridian, the town I lived in was dinky, and I’d never once traveled outside of it. I’d never aspired to a career in acting and I had virtually no presence on the web. For a big Hollywood casting director to call me out of the blue was damn right improbable if not outright impossible.

So, I took the first flight out of that little shit hole and never looked back. Long story short, I got the part and I rose to fame. Money, big houses, fast cars, and even faster women. I had it all and I even trashed a few hotel rooms as stereotypical as that might sound. Just when I’d settled into my new life of glamour and luxury she came to collect for what I’d promised her.

It was night, and I was more than a little drunk. I staggered out of the bathroom, Belvedere bottle clenched in my hands as I lurched my way through the house and into my bedroom where my latest conquest was waiting, but soon discovered that, she appeared to be missing.

“Aimeeee,” I called out dropping the bottle and cursing as I danced around the broken shards.

“I believe her name was Alisha,” A voice spoke, and I swirled around tottering around on my feet before I finally managed to do a complete one-eighty and face the intruder.

I cursed the moment my eyes caught sight of her and backed away pointing my finger at her. I stepped on several shards of glass, but I was so caught up by my terror that I barely felt it. “Y-you!”

“Yes, me,” she smiled advancing on me. “It’s time to collect what you promised Adrian, do you remember?”

“No, no, no!” I screamed at her. “It’s too soon, too soon! Do you hear me?”

“Really? When did we ever specify an amount of time? I think what you’ve been given is certainly enough. Haven’t you enjoyed all the attention that you’ve received? You certainly seemed to have been enjoying Aimee. I know had enough fun watching you two go at it.”

“You were there?” I stared back at her with wide eyes still just a little woozy from the alcohol, but sobering up more and more by the minute.

She crooked a finger and stroked my cheek. “Of course, I’ve been here with you this whole time poking and prodding in the direction the Lady Satan wished and I must say you’ve performed just as expected. A little boring, really, but it seems to please my mistress so I suppose it’s all worth it.”

“You can’t make me go to Hell! I won’t go!” I screamed crossing both arms across my face in some vain hope I could shield myself from her unholy powers. “I’m not gonna burn!”

“Oh, honey,” she let out a soft, almost soothing little laugh. “You don’t actually think Hell is all fire and brimstone, do you? It’s a metaphor silly, not everything in that silly little book is meant to be taken literally. Eternal damnation is much, much more interesting. You wouldn’t be so lucky in any case. The Lady Satan has big plans for you. You really think we’d go to so much trouble of purchasing your measly little soul just to spend eternity torturing you in the deepest recesses of hell?”

She snapped her fingers, and he felt his body stiffen. I stared up at her, eyes wide and cursed myself. Never once had I thought to ask what my punishment might be. Somehow it had never seemed to matter.

She snapped her fingers a second time and I could feel my whole body begin to snap and contort. I collapsed to the ground clutching at my burning insides begging her for mercy. At first, there was only pain, all consuming and mind-numbing, but when I felt my chest begin to swell I screamed out, not in agony, but shock. I touched my new budding breasts, and quickly slipped my hands over my dick as it began to wither away. When it was all finished, I looked up at the she-demon, and shook my head.

“Why?”

She knelt down in front of me, smiled, and stroked my chin. “Your soul belongs to the dark mistress for all eternity.She doesn’t waste resources, but sometimes they need a prettier wrapper to really bring out their potential. I happen to think, you make for a very lovely succubus, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard and stared up at her with wide eyes. She took a few steps back and I climbed to my feet feeling my clothes slithering around on my body, becoming something far more fitting to my new form.

“Now dear, the nights still young. There are still plenty of souls about for a pair of she-demons like us to lead in to temptation, wouldn’t you say?”

I bit my lips, looked down at my breasts which looked ready to pop out of my skimpy little dress and felt a slow smile form on my face.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Facades: A Christmas Tale

All his life Jake Melton hid behind a mask. When he returned home, upon learning of his abusive mother’s death, fate intervenes and his life is changed forever.

Author's Note

Shout outs go to the following people: Beyogi who served as a beta reader and Maggie Finson for beta reading as well, but also for coming up with the title for the story, and the late Holly H Hart for her superb editing prowess.

This story is part of an open universe, if you are interest in writing in this universe, visit the open universes page and if your still interested use the contact form and shoot me an email with your idea.

Sometimes your past has a way of sneaking up on you. For some folks that could be a good thing, but for me it nearly always meant trouble. Now I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not as if I lived a violent life of crime or anything like that. When you grow up in the sort of mess that I did your past isn’t exactly something you like to dwell on. My father died when I was very young and my mother, discontent with her lot in life, turned to alcohol in order to cope. She was a mean, bitter and manipulative woman, and she made my life a living hell. I’d been lucky in one respect, at least, a lot of people who grew up in abusive homes were beaten. My mother only ever tried to hit me once, and by then I was both bigger and stronger than her. When she hit me, I hit back, and she never so much as laid a finger on me again.

My mother always had a handle over me. She knew just what buttons to push to get me to do what she wanted and she manipulated me with the skill of a master puppeteer and much to my shame I let her do it. My mother could read me like a book, and had known whenever I was keeping something from her, but there was one secret she’d never guessed at. Perhaps, she knew and just wouldn’t accept it or perhaps the mask I wore was so convincing that even she couldn’t see through my carefully laid facade.

You see, for as long as I could remember I’d been convinced I was meant to be born a girl. My memories of my early childhood were foggy at best, so I can only surmise that something scared me enough to bottle my feelings up and keep them concealed. I sometimes thought that my mother may have had played a hand in this, but I doubted I would ever know for sure, especially now that she is dead.

I hadn’t spoken to her for years, and I’d been perfectly content to leave it that way so it had come as a pretty big surprise when I got the call about her death. The call came from an old friend, one whom I hadn’t heard from in years, but one who had been on my mind nearly every day since I’d left home almost ten years ago. Katie, my closest friend growing up, and the only person I’d ever truly loved. I spent years trying to work up the courage to ask her out, but I was far too afraid to put our friendship at risk. It seemed fate was not without a cruel sense of irony, in our senior year my hopes were dashed and I learned that devastating truth, Katie was a lesbian. She was only attracted to girls, and despite my secret belief that I was meant to be a girl, I knew we could never be together. Completely heartbroken, I left town once we graduated and never returned.

It was just two days before Christmas when I got the call, and as always I was spending the holidays alone. It wasn’t that I didn’t have any friends, but there were just too many bad memories and I would just as soon drown myself in alcohol and spend my Christmas in a drunken stupor. I’d only had two beers and was about to start in on a third when I heard the phone ring. I almost didn’t answer it, but for some reason I had this nagging feeling that it might be important.

“Jake?” a soft and melodic female voice asked from the receiver.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt ice cold chills shoot down my spine. It had been almost ten years since I’d heard her speak, and despite the subtle changes that time had made to her voice I still recognized the speaker as Katie immediately.

Memories came to me unbidden and I fought to keep my emotions from getting the better of me. “Katie?”

“God, it’s good to hear your voice. I just wish it were under better circumstances,” Katie said from the other end. There was a distinct tone of tension to her voice and I just knew that something was up.

“Katie? How did you get this number? What’s wrong?” I asked her feeling a lump form in my throat.

“It’s actually Deputy Forenst now, I work for the Sheriff’s office. Look Jake, I wanted to be the one to tell you. Your mother, we found her dead yesterday morning.”

“Shit… How?”

“She took her own life. I’m sorry.”

My hand, the one holding the receiver, started to shake and I felt all my bitterness and anger rise to the surface only to mingle with guilt and grief. My mother, my tormentor for so many years was gone. I wasn’t sure how I should feel and I was having trouble reconciling the sudden flood of conflicting emotions.

“Jake?”

“Yeah, I’m still here… I just… I haven’t heard from my mother in so long and now to learn that she’s dead. God, I don’t know how to feel,” I said, hot tears stinging my cheeks.

“Jake, I… if you don’t want to come home. After all that woman did to you–”

“No,” I said cutting her suddenly short. “I think I need to see for myself.”

After a long conversation Katie offered to let me stay at her place and I reluctantly agreed. I didn’t want to impose on her, but I had nowhere else to stay, as my hometown of Meridian was so small it didn’t have a hotel and I sure as hell wasn’t staying in my mom’s place. I was still reeling from the news of my mother’s death and I wasn’t quite sure how to react. A part of me wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, and the other wanted to jump up in the air and shout out in glee. I know it sounds horrible, but my mother had brought me nothing but grief, and in a weird sort of way her death came as a relief.

I let out a long sigh, walked over to where I’d left my still unopened third beer and picked it up. I stood there holding it in my hand, and stared at it blankly for a moment. I shook my head, set the beer back down then sank down to my knees and started to weep.

 

“Dammit!” I cursed and turned my windshield wipers up to full speed.

It was Christmas Eve, and the drive to Meridian, my hometown, had been pretty sedate to begin with, but just a few hours in it had started to snow. It wasn’t really all that bad at first, but the closer I got to Meridian the more heavily it came down. I could only see a few yards in front of me and it didn’t show any signs of letting up. The mountain road that led into Meridian was hazardous, even under the best of conditions, and I was really beginning to regret my decision to come. I sighed, and flipped my car star stereo on. Adam Gontier’s voice screamed out the lyrics to I Hate Everything About You, and I could feel the singer’s emotions as acutely as if they were my own.

The song had come out when I was still living with my mother, and had quickly become one of my favorites. As of late my musical tastes had moved away from the angrier and more angst ridden stuff I’d listened to in High School, but for whatever reason that particular song had remained in my playlists, and at the moment it was just the sort of song I wanted to hear. I hated my mother, I hated that her death had affected me as it had. I had never had any intention of returning to Meridian, but there I was, doing just that. It was as if my mother had reached out to manipulate me one last time from beyond the grave.

Still, it would be nice seeing Katie, despite how much it would hurt. I still had pretty strong feelings for her, and I knew those feelings would never be returned. It was strange that after so long that my emotions would remain so strong. Maybe I was just clinging to the unattainable so that I wouldn’t get hurt by anyone else. It went to show just how pathetic I really was. I was afraid to get married, and afraid to have kids for fear that I would do what my mother had done to me and ruin my own children’s lives. It was better that I remain alone so that the cycle of abuse could be broken, or at least that’s what I told myself.

For the first time in years I found myself thinking about my gender identity. Well that’s not really accurate, I thought about it all the time, but this was the first time in a long time that I had really put any deep contemplation into it. Over the years I had carefully constructed an image of myself for the outside world to see. I did everything I could to appear as an ordinary guy, but that image was a lie. At one point I considering seeing a gender therapist, but the thought of hormone therapy and SRS held no appeal to me. I wanted to so desperately to be a woman, but I was tall and was pretty well built like a tank. With my face and body I didn’t think I could ever make a passable woman, and I’d always feel like I was pretending to be something that I wasn’t.

The tune changed to Norns by HeavensDust and I was about to reach down to change tracks when I caught a glimmer of light out of the corner of my eye. I looked up to find a pair of headlights headed right at me. I swerved out of the way in time to avoid getting hit, but I went flying off the road. For a moment my car teetered over the edge of the mountain’s cliff, but then the car suddenly jerked sideways and everything went black.

 

My head felt like some deranged carpenter had been beating at it with a mallet as vision slowly returned to me. I reached up to touch my forehead and felt something warm and slick, when I pulled my hand away I found that it was covered in blood. I took a deep breath and thought I might pass out from the pain as stabbing sharp agony shot from the lower-left section of my rib cage. I groaned, and turned my head to take stock of my situation. My car’s descent appeared to have been halted by a small copse of oak trees, but I had no idea how far down the mountainside I’d fallen, as the snowfall was so thick by then that I could only see a few feet in any direction outside the car.

The front of my car had crumpled inward and I was pinned against the steering wheel. All attempts to free myself were an exercise in futility and only resulted in more pain. The good news was that I could move my feet, so I wasn’t paralyzed. My biggest concern was that I was bleeding pretty badly, and if someone didn’t find me soon I feared I might bleed to death.

I gave up on trying to get free and focused on trying to keep warm. I was wearing my coat, which provided a great deal of insulation, but it was damn cold, and snow was drifting into the car from a crack in the rear window so I knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. I slipped my hand into the sleeve of my coat and lifted it up to the bloody gash on my forehead. Short of tearing off a sleeve I didn’t have any means of cutting off the blood flow, so my coat sleeve would have to do.

I found myself drifting off and I realized it would probably be bad for me to fall unconscious again. I’d banged up my head pretty good, and I thought I might just have a concussion. I fought against my drowsiness and did the only thing I could think of to keep myself awake, I sang. Like my mother, I’d been gifted with a pretty good singing voice, and one of the few good memories I had of her was of the two of us singing together. Of course, the first thing I could think of happened to be ‘White Christmas’, which seemed an oddly fitting tune for my current predicament.

Singing was second nature to me, and it didn’t take me long to turn to more melancholy tunes like ‘Everybody Hurts’ by REM, but as I struggled to stay awake the lyrics started to slip from my mind. I eventually just started to scream out in misery. I don’t remember all of it, but I do remember calling out to whatever god, goddess or gods would listen to me, begging them to end my pain. I didn’t want to live anymore, I hated my life, I hated my body and I didn’t want to live with it any longer.

I could never bring myself to completely discount the possibility that there was a God, but I’d never really put much stock in the idea of a wise, merciful, omnipotent and omniscient god. If there really was a God, and He really gave a fuck about any of us, why would He put us on this earth to feel so much pain? If He really cared about His children why didn’t He try to alleviate our suffering? Then again maybe His power was limited and He was just as helpless as the rest of us, or maybe He just didn’t give a damn.

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned my head to stare into the eyes of the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. She had long blond hair, a dazzling set of green-eyes, and she stared down at me with a calm reassuring smile. She tugged at my sleeve and I felt myself being lifted gently from the car and placed back down on the ground.

“Jake,” she whispered kneeling down next to me. “I’m sorry that I’ve never done enough for you.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Someone who has watched over you for your entire life,” she smiled.

“W-what do you want?”

“What I’ve always wanted, to protect you and help you to be happy,” she said, reaching down to cup my face as a single tear ran down her left cheek.

“I can’t undo the years of abuse and mistreatment you’ve suffered at your mother’s hand, but there’s one thing I can do that should make your life a little more bearable,” she said with a thoughtful smile as her hand slid away from my face.

“Hey, what–?” I protested as she pressed her hands into my chest.

“Shh, don’t worry. It’s all going to turn out alright,” she said with a very slight smile just before a blinding white light filled my vision.

“Your bitterness is understandable, but know this. God is real and he does care,” I heard her whisper as darkness closed in and I felt myself slip back into unconsciousness.

 

I woke to find a brilliant bright beam shinning in my eyes and for a very brief moment I thought that my mysterious rescuer was still there, but realized that the light was coming from an ordinary flashlight. I groaned and shielded my eyes against the beam’s golden luminescence.

I briefly took stock of my situation remembering the accident and everything that happened after. And there was my body… it felt strange. Something was different, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“Jenn?” A familiar voice asked, and the light faded away to reveal the face of the newcomer.

‘Jenn? Who is Jenn?’ “Katie? God, is that you?” I said with a loud gasp, and couldn’t believe my ears at the sound of the voice coming from my mouth.

‘God, I sound like a woman!’ Maybe the reason my body had felt different was because it actually was different. I hurriedly reach up and grabbed at my chest and let out a loud squeal at the pair of fleshy globes I found there. They were breasts, but how?! The woman that had freed me from my car… it was her doing, I just knew it!

“Jennifer,” Katie knelt down to touch my shoulder with a reassuring smile. “You’ve been in an accident, but you’re going to be alright. An ambulance is on the way.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. Had I hit my head harder than I thought? God I really hoped not! Whatever had caused my sudden transformation had fulfilled the deepest desire of my heart and I was pretty sure I had the woman to thank. Who was she and why had she done this? For a moment I thought she might be a goddess, but then I remembered what she had said about God being real. Then it came to me, and the answer seemed so stupid I almost laughed. She was my guardian angel. I’d always discarded guardian angels and their like as nothing more than silly fairy tales and wishful thinking. Clearly, I was going to have to rethink a few things.

“Katie, what time is it?” I whispered reaching up to touch my old friend’s face.

“It’s just past one in the morning,” she replied with a slow intake of breath.

She was so beautiful and I felt a slow smile creep onto my face as I realized what being woman meant. Not only did I have the body I always wanted, but I had a chance to be with Katie. I said a silent prayer in my heart of thanks to whatever God had sent the woman–no my guardian angel–to me. My past may not have been all sunshine and daisies, but I could see a glimmer of what my new future might entail and it looked to be very bright indeed.

“Katie come closer,” I whispered.

Katie furrowed her brows, and leaned in as I had suggested. I reached up and grabbed the collar of her shirt, then tightened my grip and pulled her closer still.

“Merry Christmas, Katie,” I whispered just before locking my lips around hers in a kiss.

As she broke away she stared done at me with wide eyes and the beginnings of a smile as she whispered the words, “Merry Christmas” just before I pulled her in for another kiss.

 

I stared down at my mother’s face and grimaced. She had once been a very attractive woman, but no longer. Years of alcohol abuse and a laundry list of poor health choices had taken their toll. I actually looked quite a bit like her in my new form, and every time I looked in the mirror I saw a younger, more attractive version of her face looking back at me. She looked calm, almost peaceful laying there in the casket almost as if she were asleep. I turned my back and leaning heavily on my cane I limped back toward the door where Katie was waiting. The viewing was just getting started and the funeral services would be held later on in the day.

The crash had left me in pretty bad shape, but it could have been much worse. I had a few broken bones here, a sprain or two there, the big ass gash across my forehead and of course my body was covered in bruises. I wasn’t what you would call thrilled about my injuries, but I think I could live with them especially considering the other ways in which my body had changed.

As near as I could tell I was a fully functioning woman, and I had my beautiful guardian angel to thank for that. Reality itself appeared to have changed along with me. Everyone in town knew me as Jennifer, or Jenn as Katie preferred to call me. They had no memory of a Jake Melton. To them I’d always been Jennifer. For the most part everything was pretty much the same, but there were subtle differences. Apparently, in this new reality Katie and I had dated in High School, but we broke up before I left town for college.

I didn’t dare tell anyone what had happened for fear of getting locked up in a mental institution, so I was forced to be a bit roundabout in my inquiries. The doctors said I may experience a bit of memory loss due to my head injury, so I had the perfect excuse to ask questions. The odd thing was that my memory seemed fine. Maybe it was the work of my guardian angel.

It was odd, people I’d known my entire life treated me as if I were a completely different person, and to their knowledge nothing had changed at all, though I think it had more to do with my physical gender than anything else. Still, I worried that my life as Jake had been wiped from existence. Or had it? Was my life really all that different? Jake and Jennifer were really the same person, the only real difference was that they had been born into bodies of different genders. Which begged the question: Does our physical gender really dictate what sort of person we are? I had so many questions, but I thought that perhaps I could find those answers through prayer.

I did tell one person about my change, and I’m sure you can guess who. At first when I told Katie, I made it sound as if it had all been a dream. Then a weird thing happened. She remembered me or more accurately my male self. She was a strong believer in God and she was quick to proclaim my transformation His work and a miracle to boot. Not that I was going to disagree, mind you. How the hell else was I supposed to explain what had happened?

My mother had made my existence miserable, but I wasn’t going to let her influence the course of my life any longer. I had a chance at happiness and I was going to take it. As I drew close Katie reached out and grabbed my hand to provide support. I leaned against her and she wrapped her arm around my back as she led me out of the funeral home and into the light of the day.

I smiled and closed my eyes leaning my head against her shoulder. I thought I was going to really like my new life.

 

The End

Comments, no matter how short, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review. Criticism is welcome, but only when presented in a constructive and positive manner.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals events or locations is purely unintentional. Only Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to post this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

NOTE: For anyone that is interested, HeavensDust, one of the bands mentioned in the story is a group that combines traditional Japanese music with Western Metal. Click here to watch their music video for the song Norns.

The other song, I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace, can be watched by clicking here

Gend-O-Matic

A man received the wrong item from a catalog order, but when he discovers that the gender-bending ray he received really does work, he doesn’t hold back.

Author's Note

This is my second Aethermysts story. It went through a lot of different versions before it finally saw the light of day and not all of them were quite so silly. Anyway this one’s just a fun little tg romp, enjoy.

This story is part of an open universe, if you are interest in writing in this universe, visit the open universes page and if your still interested use the contact form and shoot me an email with your idea.

“Calm down Stormy!” I patted my pet’s head. He hadn’t quite reached the end of puppy-hood, but given his size he was getting pretty difficult to handle especially since I hadn’t quite managed to break him of all his bad habits.

Stormageddon plopped down and looked back at me with a big old doggie grin on his face. The last time he’d pulled this crap I’d spent almost five minutes trying to get the wry little bastard to sit up again. “Come on man.”

I felt an unexpected weight in my jacket pocket and looked up just in time to see some pale-skinned spook in a leather jacket breeze past me. “Weird.” I reached inside and pulled free what he had deposited there, a chincy little toy raygun.

“The Gend-O-Matic.” I traced my hands along the logo on the handle. “WARNING! Only intended for use on humans.”

“Aethermysts,” I whispered, remembering that weird ass catalog I’d found in the dumpster a few weeks ago. I’d sent for something from it and I could have sworn I’d ordered the Mach-O-Blaster, but then again I’d been a little drunker than I cared to admit. I could have checked the wrong box on the order form.

The weird delivery method notwithstanding, there was no way I was buying the whole magic gender bender ray thing. I almost tossed the stupid thing in the garbage, but then I shook my head pointed it at Stormy and pulled the trigger. I really didn’t expect anything to happen. So, you can imagine my surprise when the gun recoiled and after a brief flash of light Stormy was looking a little different.

Sitting there on her ass stark naked, with her tongue waggling out of her mouth, was a rather fuck-tastic vixen who happened to have a set of dog ears and a tail. I gasped and looked down at the weapon with wide eyes.

I felt like a geek in a electronics store who’d just been handed an all-you-can-buy gift card. I started shooting everything in sight, starting with a squirrel who transformed into a buff dude with those goofy ears and bushy tail, next I fired on a cat who turned out just as vivacious as stormy. There were people there too, men, women and a couple of kids, none of them were spared. Once they’d been hit by the gun no one was immune to it’s effects. I pulled the trigger one last time, but the gun clicked and did nothing.

It got real hot real fast and I dropped it before it could burn my hands. There was a brilliant luminescent explosion and when my vision cleared I was looking up at the clear blue sky. A pretty face leaned over and I felt a hand on my shoulder. “It got you too, whatever that was, didn’t it?”

I gasped and reached out to my chest and confirmed my worst fears. “Yup, definitely chincy.”



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

The Bureau

When a bureaucratic mix-up results in a man losing his job, he heads straight to the Bureau of Identity Management to get things straightened out, but unfortunately for him the Bureau never acknowledges it’s made a mistake.

 

Author’s Note: This story doesn’t actually contain a transformation, but it’s pretty well inferred that one is coming for our poor narrator. This story more or less inspired by my deep dislike for bureaucracy and the headaches it causes.

“Sir, it clearly says here that you are female,” the woman said beaming at me with a smile so sickly-sweet that it made me want to puke.

“Do I look like a woman?”

Her smile lost just a little bit of its lustre. “I really can’t comment on your physical condition. If the form says you’re a woman, then as far as the bureau is concerned you are a woman.”

Dammit, I hated the Bureau of Identity Management! I tried to make my voice sound as calm and reasonable as I could manage. “There’s been some sort of mistake. I received a notice in the mail that my sex had been reclassified to female.”

“Oh, of course. Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

Bureaucrats! I shook my head and levelled my gaze on her. “I’ve been trying to for the last hour and a half!”

“One moment please. Let me take a look at your records. It says here that you submitted a request to have your gender reclassified.”

“That’s a mistake. I never submitted any request.”

“I’m afraid, sir, that the mistake is yours.”

“Yesterday, I got a notice from my employer that I’d been terminated. Apparently, they found it just a little suspicious that my sex didn’t match the government records! I’ve tried to be patient, but I’m at my wits end. Tell me how to fix this.”

She slipped a paper onto the desk and leaned in close. “You can try fighting this, but the bureau will never admit any wrong. You’re only other avenue will be to complete a 92-346B form requesting sex correction.”

I grabbed the paper and read it over. There was a whole lot of legalese, but it seemed to be exactly what I needed.

“Once you’ve completed the form you’ll need to take it to the Request Processing Division. I’ll transfer your name into the waiting queue.” She smiled pointing across the room.

“Do that.”

It took all of about ten minutes for me to finish filling out the form, but it took another thirty for them to finally call my name, again.

I walked up to the counter, slammed the paper down and let the girl on the other side do all the talking.

“Well, ma’am, it looks like everything here is in order. I’ll just need to see proof of identity.”

I whipped my id card out and waited quietly as she slid the form and the card into her scanner. “Thank you. It will be just a moment.”

“Really, it will be that fast?”

“Oh, no gene re-sequencing is a lengthy process. It will only a moment before you receive approval.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why your request to have your physical sex corrected, of course! And look it’s been approved.”

“Wait, what? That can’t be right! You’ve made a mistake.”

“Oh no ma’am, the bureau doesn’t make mistakes. Have a nice day.”



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Of Princes and Princesses

Two warring kingdom’s sit down to negotiate a peace, but as usual the talks never go anywhere. That is until, someone or something intervenes.

 

Author’s Note: This little piece is based off one of my earliest ideas for a TG story, even predating Virtually Twisted. Unfortunately, the original was just a little too ambitious for someone who, in those days, could barely pieces together a few hundred words a day.

 

I was a young scribe at the time in which the peace talks were being held. King Berdius, Ravan’s father, worn and tired from many years of war was eager to bring it to an end, but the righteous King Roland and son Magnus were angry over of the atrocities committed against their people and would make no concessions.

It was my opinion that the peace talks would break down as they always did and the long pointless feud between Gaman and Desperia would once again commence and lead us all to ruin, but then something remarkable happened. Prince Ravan collapsed to the ground, his body shifting and turning. As he slowly stripped the armor away from his body we watched his carefully sculpted biceps fade and wither away like leaves falling from a tree on an autumn afternoon.

It was not immediately apparent what was transpiring, but when the young prince ripped the shirt away from his chest to reveal the pair of budding breasts growing out from it, no one could have any doubt. To this day I have not seen a man show such terror as the Ravan did on his face nor have I entered a room that was so silent. We all watched the prince’s transformation in rapt fascination. In just a few moments, it was over, the young prince once all hard edges and angles became soft and voluptuous, the perfect image of feminine beauty.

No one could understand the cause, for none of us had ever witnessed the like before, but fortunately, or unfortunately, whatever the case may have been, it was the new Princess Ravan who provided the answer. She climbed to her feet, her breasts displayed proudly for all of us to see and began to speak in a melodic voice.

My mind has grown old and feeble in my advanced years and I cannot remember her exact choice of words, but she did explain to us that her transformation was, in fact, the work of the Goddess Tirsha. It was her will that Ravan and the illustrious Prince Magnus be married as equals in order to unite the two realms as one nation. It was the only way to end the war once and for all.

Naturally, this was debated to no end, but eventually it was agreed that Ravan’s change was an act of divinity and the new Princess Ravan and Magnus were married. After all who could argue with the will of a goddess? It was only years later that we understood the full truth of what had transpired that day, but by then it was too late and Ravan was already queen.

—An excerpt from the History of the Phinyl Realm by Evgard of the Silver Scroll



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Devil’s Due (Original)

Beware of selling your soul to the devil she has a way of collecting her debts in unexpected ways.


Author’s Note:
Originally, this was supposed to be an entry in my Tales from Meridian universe, showing that it wasn’t just angels who went around swapping genders, but it didn’t quite seem like a fit so it wound up being a standalone. This was originally part of the anthology Irresistable, Kissable.

I was just laying down for the night when my bed erupted into flames and I screamed backing away from them as the voluptuous form of a dark-haired beauty appeared out of thin air. She was the epitome of the perfect woman, a real bombshell, who was a flawless stand-in for my wife.

“Hello honey, I’m home. Did you miss me?” She winked then smiled coyly.

“You’re not Jenny!” I screamed staring at her with wide eyes.

“On the contrary.” She smirked leaning over, giving me an amazing view of her cleavage. “I’ve been Jenny since the first moment we met.”

Twenty years ago to the day I sold my soul for a life of money and fame. I met Jenny just a few weeks afterward, but she was just a kid then. It wasn’t until she matured into a woman that our relationship took a romantic turn. After a whirlwind courtship we got married, but if what she said was true, it was a sham and had been all along. I couldn’t help but feel manipulated and betrayed.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? So that I could watch over you and guide you, but really that’s beside the point. Let’s not delay this any longer.”

“Just make it fast, please.” I pleaded, tears stinging my cheeks as I fought down my fear and panic. What would happen to me? Would she drain my soul away and leave me an empty husk or would I be doomed to spend eternity in hell? It had never been clear and somehow I’d never thought to ask. Until that moment it hadn’t mattered. How could I have been so stupid?

Lucifer cackled as the flames blazed across the mattress quickly climbing up my frame and started to consume me. I thought I was going to burn to death, but then the pain settled on my chest and different parts of my body, until it eventually faded away. I gasped running my hand over my torso, discovering as I did so that it had been transformed. Two luscious breasts had swelled on my chest but that was only one of many changes.

“I-I’m a woman,” I said with a loud gasp. “But why?”

“Your soul is mine. That means you are bound to serve me for all of eternity. I don’t waste resources, but sometimes they need a prettier wrapper to really bring out their true potential. I happen to think you’ll make a lovely succubus, don’t you?”

“I refuse!”

“What makes you think you have a choice? The night is still young. There are plenty of souls roving about for you to lead into temptation.”

She snapped her fingers and my clothes shifted becoming a form fitting outfit that left little to the imagination. I bit my lip, looked down at my breasts, which looked like they were about ready to pop out of the dress and felt a smile stretch across my face.

“As you wish, Lady Satan.”



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

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