Christmas Cracker

'Welcome, Rosemary!' says Uncle George as I waltz this way and that. High on tiptoes my heels hardly touch the floor. I think I had my eyes shut as every sensation is magnified. The weight of my breasts, my petticoats flutter outwards displaying first my legs, lacy stocking top, milky thigh then snowy white panties. I feel my face redden.

Auntie claps with delight, 'You look so pretty dear you deserve to be on the top of our Christmas tree.' She wipes tears from her eyes and blows her nose in her huge lace hankie.

'Like a fairy.' Uncle George adds giving me a jovial smile.

Mum tuts disapprovingly and smiles at me proudly. 'Ignore him dear you've done yourself proud, Julie's done a grand job.'

As if on queue I stand in the centre of the room and twirl like a trained ballerina.

'And ...' she goes on excitedly, 'I can tell you all that our Rosemary isn't just wearing Auntie's gorgeous dress. I got a glimpse of our shy beauty when she was changing and can confirm that she's also wearing the most sumptuous feminine lingerie.' A gasp goes out around the room and the men in particular edge forward on their seats as if waiting for the result of a horse race. I feel my face redden and notice out the corner of my eye my step dads groin begin to swell. 'It's so nice to see and I do believe it would melt any hot bloodied males heart.'

I shuffle my feet uncomfortably and feel as if I've stumbled into some weird costume drama.

I giggle girlishly and shake my skirts, playing my part as if hoping for an Oscar. Then without thinking, I lift my skirts, twirl and show everyone my infamous underwear.

There is a sharp intake of breath from every onlooker present. Their shocked gasps echo round the living room walls. There's a staggered pause. Everyone just gapes at me in astonishment.

'Rosemary, did you just... Flash your knickers?' says Julie at last.

I stare back frozen.

What was I thinking? Was it the wine, the liqueur chocolates or the brandy soaked mince pies. They'll think I'm taking the piss. There goes my squeaky-clean image. Polite ladies don't brazenly display their panties. This isn't some a European porno film it's a Family Christmas soirée.

They're still goggling at me. I have to say something. 'Julie has lent me some of her pretty underwear and its gone to my head.' I giggle stupidly, 'I feel so feminine and sexy. They are so luxurious and extravagant I do believe they've released something in me I didn't think I possessed.' My face is prickling all over. 'I'm sorry if I've offended anyone. I won't do it again.'

But to the contra Uncle George is leaning further and further forward, his eyes all screwed up. Squinting at me as though he's trying to make me out.

He must blow my cover, he must I muse. After what seems minutes he speaks.

'I like it,' he pronounces at last, and nods his head in satisfaction. 'Yes, I like a girl with a sparkle. A pretty girl willing to please. You can show me your knickers anytime.'

What? I can do what? My uncle who knows who I really am and that I've a cock - enjoys seeing my bits in silk and lace. I take a breath - then close it again as Mum jabs him in the ribs. It doesn't matter. It's not real. I could flash my knickers at Christmas. If you can't do it now when can you do it? I smile back at Uncle George and involuntarily lick my lips provocatively.

Auntie comes to the rescue. 'How does your new dress feel, does it fit well?

'Very nice, very well, thank you Auntie,' I reply demurely.

'That's good!' Auntie rocks back and forth in her chair. She seems just a little awkward. In fact they all seem awkward. Underneath the supporting comments and happy smiles, there seems just a hint of uncertainty. 'I expect you to visit me in my home from now on. No excuses. I've got to show you off to all the male nurses.'

I smile sweetly and for a brief moment imagine myself (for an inexplicable reason) in an overtly feminine silk-chiffon lace-knit embroidered dress mincing between the elderly resident of Auntie's old peoples home much to the enjoyment of the male nurses. 'Of course,' I find myself saying, 'I'd love to visit you... You can't keep me away from a man in a uniform.' I immediately blush and think my role-play is perhaps going a bit far. I decide to take a back seat - if possible.

After I've let Auntie feel the various materials, count the many petticoats, study the sparkling sequins and admire my legs the initial excitement ebbs and I begin to relax. I really do enjoy wearing the dress. I become accustomed to the strangeness of the bra, panties, stockings, heels and dress and feel remarkably comfortable. I even wonder why Julie doesn't wear a dress more often rather than her normal jeans and T-shirt. I feel normal, happy and at home. It was as if for the first time in my life I could breathe easily. If this is what its like being a girl I was smitten. I'm a pantie and dress convert - I never wanted to wear trousers again. Every little thing I'd dreamt about was true. Why would I ever want to wear course, ugly men's clothes ever again. I walk about the room, toss my hair, flutter my eyelashes and flick my hips sending my skirts spiraling trying to look as though I know what I'm doing.

Julie had taken the only available seat, as strangely whilst upstairs everyone had spread out and occupied all the seating. I stand momentarily and wonder where to hide. There was no option but to squat in the centre of the room, near the fire, on the rug. My heels made kneeling uncomfortable so I carefully sat on my hip and curled my legs under me to one side as I'd seen models in Julies fashion magazines. As I sat demurely I expertly arranged my skirts around me. They spread out like a huge fan occupying a substantial amount of floor space. It was glorious like a princess. I felt like a bride in her wedding gown in one of those traditional wedding type poses I just needed a poesy of flowers to complete the picture. Sitting as I did, in the centre of the room on the floor level I felt like a little girl. My dress seemingly sparkling in unison with the Christmas tree.

'Doesn't she look pretty,' Auntie kept saying occasionally wiping away yet another tear. 'She reminds me of when I was a young girl.' Mum agreed and even talked to me as if her daughter and Julie was warm and friendly, chatting as if long lost sisters. Not once did she joke, ridicule me or let on. We played the normal Christmas games that come out every festive year but this Christmas I was different. Instead of my heart sinking when my sister got out her Karaoke CDs I was elated. My rendition of "Britney" and "J Lo" was, if I say so myself, remarkably realistic especially when I performed a sexy dance routine for added realism. The sexy moves, the silky voice all just came so easily, as if I'd done it many times before. I even won charades. Uncle George insisted we played "Twister" which seemed most inappropriate considering our ages. And to make matters worse when ever it was his turn he managed to get his face firmly up my skirt. I'm sure it was deliberate but no one else noticed so I ignored him.

Later mum, Julie and I all helped in the kitchen preparing tea. I wore a frilly apron so as not to soil my dress and Julie, for the first time teased me until Mum got really angry. She really didn't want Auntie to discover the truth especially as to date everything had gone like oiled clockwork.

After tea I helped tidy up the things and we all played some more games, drank more wine, chatted, laughed and nibbled on a massive tin of chocolates. Eventually we all began to tire and with some relief watched an old James Bond film on the TV together. Uncle George sat beside me and put his hand on my knee. He whispered in my ear so on one could hear. 'So R-o-s-e-m-a-r-y do you enjoy wearing dresses then?'

I look at him and his hand on my knee. 'Of course not,' I lie. This is coming off at the first opportunity. I'm only doing this for Auntie. You know the score I didn't want to offend. She is obviously mentally unstable and her health balances on a knife-edge. I don't want to be the one that sends her health spiraling downwards.' He looked me in the eye and I could see him doubting my every word.

'But, Rosemary your skin is so soft, your legs so smooth and your make-up so well applied you're a natural.' He gives my knee a squeeze and his huge hand slides slowly up my slender thigh. I hardly notice until it's under my skirt. Horrors a frisson of excitement swirls through my body as he pinches my flesh through my silky stockings.

'Julie did it.' I say abruptly.

'It's very good but you have to admit you carry it well ... Perhaps a little too well. And you haven't said if you enjoy being the feminine girl, wearing pretty party dresses.'

'No,' I say again, 'as I said before - it's coming straight off after this charade.'

'Oh yes and you're so good at charades aren't you?' he said. 'But tell me when you take this dress off will you wear another dress, perhaps a bit tarty like a mini dress and fishnet tights or a tight pencil skirt and translucent blouse. We haven't seen your tits yet.'

Yeah I ponder. In your dreams. I stare at him angrily annoyed that he's ruining the experience. He seems oblivious to my upset.

'Or do you fancy a bit of leather. A tight black mini skirt that barely covers your sexy arse! If you ask me I bet you're a right sexpot. A right sexy nymph who cant wait to drop her knickers. A slut, a tart, a whore'

'No,' I cry struggling to get out the sofa without displaying too much thigh, 'I'm not you're wrong.' Auntie looks across upset and gesture for me to sit beside her. I cross the room and perch on the arm of her chair. Wrong - Uncle George stares at my legs. His eyes on stalks he cant divert his gaze and I feel them burning into me as if able to see my panties. I put my hands in my lap and try to avoid the netting of my skirts sticking upwards.

'Has George been offending you,' Auntie whispers, 'He can be so rude. I'm sure he's a bit perverted. You're not a pervert are you?'

'Excuse me?' I say.

Auntie laughs. 'Don't take a blind bit of notice of what George says. He knows nothing. I've been talking to your Mum and she agrees that you look beautiful. Plus Auntie knows... I can tell your loving every minute.'

What she said hit me like an express train. I suddenly feel weak, sad and pitiful. I look at her bemused. 'Mum?' I say. 'You said mum. If I'm Rosemary she's not my mum.' Auntie laughs really quietly and leans to whisper in my ear. 'And I'm the fairy godmother.'

I look confused. 'What do you mean?' I say.

Auntie smiles proudly. 'I've done you a favour. I've given you the best present ever. I'm not going doolally. I'm not mentally unstable. I'm the sharpest knife in the box. I'm well aware who you are and what you want. I know more about you than you know yourself.

'What!' I cry.

'Shhh!' she puts her fingers to her lips, 'keep your noise down. Let this be our secret.'

'You mean you know who I am yet you bought me this ultra feminine dress?'

'Why yes...' She says proudly. 'If I was to wait for you to take the first step I'd be dead and buried. Old age has told me to act now and think later. I want you to be happy and you are happy in that dress with Julie's shoes and underwear, aren't you?'

'I, I, I guess,' I say cautiously.

Auntie wipes her nose 'I'm sorry if the dress isn't exactly to your taste but I hope you'll go shopping for something else.'

'Yeah,' I say and that's my other problem, No job. I've no money. I'm totally dependant on Mum. I couldn't afford to shop even if I wanted to. This is the first new thing I've worn for months.

Auntie smiles reassuringly. 'Why what's the problem?'

'I can't seem to find my vacation.' I say.

Auntie smiles and I see her false teeth wobble. 'Oh dearie I've got you another surprise. You know Mums friends, Dave and Trish who own the ladies fashion store in the high street.

'Yes' I say nervous as to what she may say next.

'I've got you an interview.' she giggles. I stare at Dave and Trish and they both smirk knowingly.

'But, but, but,' I stammer. 'I can't work in a ladies boutique.'

'Not as a man but you can as Rosemary?'

My mouth gapes open as if catching flies.

'You can thank me later dearie. You need a job and I thought sales was your thing. You look amazing in a dress and your body will sell anything even if you may be the wrong sex'

I stare open mouthed and see Dave and Trish nodding encouragingly.

'And if you disagree with me have a look in the mirror. You look amazing but I think you need some current fashion advice. I'm an old lady and my taste may not be the current vogue.' She laughs.

'I don't know what to say,' I mumble

'Say yes,' she says. I spoke to Dave and Trish while you where in the Kitchen and they've been looking for a pretty sales assistant like you for months. You'll have to dress every day as a beautiful girl and you'll need a complete new wardrobe.'

Her very words made my cock stiffen again and I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Julie's hand cream was a welcome relief. This time it was hardly needed, as I was so excited as I contemplated my new life as Rosemary.

Back downstairs Trish was talking to Auntie. She beckons me over. 'I've just been over the arrangements with your new employer. The interview is a mere formality. They just want to see how you look another day. Treat it like a new start.'

I'm dumfounded.

Trish puts an arm round me and places a kiss gently on my cheek.

'You're gorgeous. Come to the shop on the 3rd January. We start our sale on the 4th we can choose you some more current outfits and when the new stock comes in you'll get fifty percent discount. I've got just the things for you. I've a lovely cotton skirt and blouse that's just you. Or a personal favorite is last seasons white tulle skirts with a pretty silk chiffon top. And don't worry about shoes we do those as well.'

My eyes water and I want to cry. I'm so happy. This is turning out to be an amazing Christmas.

Later I sit next to Julie. 'You knew about this,' I ask.

She grins as if broken a window with a ball. She nods.

'Pleased?' she says at last

'I don't know,' I say.

Julie nods. 'I think your dead lucky "Debut" is one of the most fashionable stores outside London.'

As we talk Mum came up to us.

'I hope you don't mind the trick. Auntie's a wise old owl. I had my doubts but I would never guess.'

'And you don't mind?' I mutter tears forming in my eyes.

'No, not at all. Your happiness is what's important to me. Julie and I will do everything to help you settle in your new life and job.' she smirks and touches me comfortingly. 'I'm looking forward to binning your awful T-shirts and jeans.' She sighs it goes without saying as Rosemary you will have to pull your weight with the housework.' She gives me a hug and I begin to cry.

That night in bed I felt divine, pampered and elegant. Julie helped me take off my make-up and lent me fresh panties. Her surprise Christmas gift was an amazingly sexy, canary yellow night-dress. I wore it to bed. It has a plunging neckline, a tiny bow in the cleavage and swathes of silky material that wrapped around my sensually alive body. It was totally unnecessary but she felt I needed a treat after taking everything so well.

Did I sleep well? Wouldn't you? Oh and a week later I'm still grateful for Auntie and have phoned 10 times to say thank you. Bless her.

The end... You decide.

How does my new job as a sexy girl go? How do the other girls take the new employee. Does Uncle George see my knickers again? How do I live up to my Mums expectations and what about my step dad why is he so willing?