header

Archives

,

Santa Babe 2: Elfsurrection

12/24/2019

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

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way. 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.

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 deviantart, danielawolfe.com, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, or tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story or any of my previous works unless I state otherwise.

,

Santa Babe

12/20/2018

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.

Facades: A Christmas Tale

08/19/2017

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