A Christmiss Story

By the time we were finished, most of the men had passed out in the den in front of another football game, and the women actually seemed to be talked out. Donna guided me gently up the stairs when no one was watching, and she led me into the bedroom where we were to spend the night. It obviously used to be a kid's room, and our suitcases (which one of her brothers had carried upstairs) were sitting on a pair of twin beds. There was a small bathroom down the hall, and we took turns removing our makeup and getting ready for bed. Donna went first, and by the time I returned, she was waiting up for me, her covers pulled up to her chin.

She watched intently as I removed my kilt and top, rolled off my tights, and took off my half slip, bra and panties. When she saw my naked body, she actually gave a little gasp. "What's wrong?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"That shot of hormones I gave you last week must have been a doozy."

"Tell me about it," I sighed, pulling a flannel nightgown over my head. "I'm the same bedroom with a hot chick, and I couldn't get a hard-on if my life depended on it."

"It's not just that, Anne. Have you looked at your chest?"

I pulled up my nightgown in a flash, and stood staring at myself in the mirror over the dresser. Sure enough, little titties were starting to grow. Not only that, I could swear that my ass and hips were starting to spread out too. I started to shake uncontrollably, tears running down my cheeks at the horror of what was happening to me.

"Come here," Anne said gently.

I turned on her in impotent fury. "You did this to me, you bitch!" I shouted.

"Shhh, my family is probably lined up outside the door," she whispered. "Come to bed." With that, she pulled down her covers to reveal her naked body. The sight of her, and the realization that I might never again be able to love a woman, was too much for me. I lost it completely, shaking with sobs as I fell down beside her. Donna took me into her arms, pulled the covers up over us, and began to stroke my nubile breasts. I felt tingles up and down my spine, and my forlorn penis started to twitch in anticipation when she gently took one of my nipples between her teeth. "There now, it's not so bad, is it?" she whispered while switching to the other breast, and before I could say anything, I felt her inserting her finger into my ass. Up, up it went, reaching and probing until it found my prostate gland. Suddenly the most exquisite feeling spread from my groin, up to my tummy and down to my toes, and my body was wracked with convulsions as the sweet waves of ecstasy went on and on.

I looked down to see my little penis, still soft, dribbling a few drops of semen onto my hairless thigh. Donna saw it too, and she gently sucked me clean. "Are you going to have to give me another shot?" I asked weakly.

"No, baby. That was a woman's orgasm you just had. My turn now." She spread her legs and waited for me to return the favor.

* * *

The next morning, we said our goodbyes after a hearty country breakfast and hugs all the way around. Jack tried to pinch my ass through my jumper, and I swatted him a little harder than he expected as Donna looked on. "I think Jack has a thing for you," she said after we got back into her car.

"I'm a guy, remember?"

"Let's talk about that."

"Look, Donna, last night was amazing, but as soon as this is over, I'm gonna go back to being a guy." I had been up half the night worrying about what was happening to me, and by morning I was resolved to put an end to the dangerous game that Donna was playing with me.

"It may be too late."

"What do you mean?"

"Anne, I don't know how to break this to you, but you're a scientist so I'll put it in terms you'll understand. Right now, from a chemical standpoint, you have the body of a teenage girl going through puberty."

"Now wait a minute. You may have forced me to take some hormones, but that doesn't make a chick. I mean, even after everything you've done to me, I came last night, didn't I? Okay, so it wasn't the greatest, but I've had nights before when I couldn't get it up. That doesn't mean I can't be a guy again, does it?"

"If you start taking heavy testosterone injections when your year is over, you should be able to reverse what we've done to you. Until then, your body's hormonal balance will be female, and the changes which have already started will continue, even if you don't take any more shots. For your sake, I hope you will let me keep you on maintenance doses of estrogen, otherwise you are going to be subject to radical mood swings and fits of depression which will only make things worse for you."

"How could things get any worse?" I spit out the words, furious at myself for letting things get this far.

"Anne, if you go cold turkey on the hormones now, there's a real chance that you could suffer a violent mood swing and blow the terms of the Consent Decree. Not only would you be screwed, but everybody in your company too."

"Big fucking deal! They don't give a shit about me. I'm just a fucking secretary."

"I'm not talking about the suits. Think about the other secretaries, and all the little people who have been kind to you. They're counting on you to pull this off so they can keep their jobs and support their families."

"Why don't you just cut off my balls to please them?"

"Don't be silly. All I'm suggesting is that you let me keep you on an even keel for the rest of the year."

"What will happen to me? Physically, I mean?"

"Well, the good news is that you should be able to start having erections again. Most of that is in your head, anyway. The bad news, if you want to call it that, is that your breasts are going to fill out, and your bottom too. Look at the bright side: you'll be able to fit into those jeans we tried on at Filene's. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?" She reached over and started to stroke my knee through my silky white tights. "I promise I'll make this experience as pleasant for you as I can. As you said, last night was amazing, and it was only the beginning."

At the memory of our night in bed together, I knew that I was whipped. Why was she able to manipulate me so easily? "What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?" I heard myself ask her.

"I was very impressed by your skills in the kitchen, Anne. Why don't we stop on the way home for some wine and provisions, and we can take turns cooking for each other when we're not in bed."

* * *

Several of the secretaries commented on the glow I had about me when we returned to the salt mines on Monday. Multiple orgasms will do that to a girl.

The week flew by, and I found myself coming up with little routines to help me pass the time. I had my nails done by some Koreans, experienced a makeover at the cosmetics counter at Marshall Fields, and had my hair cut into a perky shag at a salon that couldn't tell at first that it was really a weave. I wondered whether Donna would like it, but after the girls at the office went on and on about how cute I looked, I stopped worrying.

At Donna's suggestion, I even started thinking of myself as a woman. Whole stretches of the day would go by in which my true gender never entered my mind. That, and the daily hormone pills that I started taking, had me submerging deeper and deeper into my feminine role, until it was not so much a role as a lifestyle. It was so much easier not to resist what was happening to me. Of course, I knew that the hormones were eroding my resistance, but once I gave in to what was happening to me, I almost started to enjoy it.

Almost. I still hated my reduction in status at the company, my feet were in constant agony, and every time I had to use the ladies room I vowed to kill the man who invented pantyhose. Up with my dress and slip, down with my panties and hose, then the whole thing backwards after sitting down to pee – I took to keeping spare nylons in my desk to replace the ones I snagged or ran when I struggled with them in the stalls.

That weekend, Donna surprised me with an artificial Christmas tree, and we spent a wintry Saturday afternoon shopping for ornaments and lights. We tried Filene's again, and this time I found a pair of jeans that fit my emerging hips. At Donna's suggestion, I also bought some new bras with A cups, and sure enough, my burgeoning breasts filled them out nicely. When I commented that I didn't look as stacked as I used to, she bought me a wonder bra, which made all the difference.

I was glowing again on Monday. When I found an invitation to the annual office holiday party sitting in my inbox, I was about to toss it when Gladys, one of the other secretaries, poked her head into my cubicle. "What are you going to wear to the party, Anne?"

"I don't think I'll go."

"Come on, be a sport! The door prize is awesome this year."

"Door prize?"

"Yeah, it's only for us munchkins, so I guess you never paid any attention before…well, you know. Anyway, this year it's a trip for two to Vail, all expenses paid!"

At the thought of skiing again, my heart surged with hope. I loved to ski, but it was out of the question on my secretary's salary. Skiing was the one sport I'd be able to enjoy in my current state, since the equipment was unisex for all intents and purposes….

"Even if you don't win, the food is great and everybody's going," Gladys persisted.

"Where is it?"

"It's at the Sheraton this year." A ten minute walk from my apartment.

"What am I supposed to wear?"

"Attagirl. Do you have a red dress?"

"I think so."

"Just dolly it up with a Christmas broche or scarf and you'll be darling, Anne. They have a huge selection at Carson Pirie Scott, I'll help you pick something out on our lunch break."

"Whatever."

I busied myself with filing and expense reports for the rest of the morning, and when she poked her head into my cubicle again just before noon, I momentarily forget what she was there for. "Let's get a move on," she said as I put on my coat and swung my purse over my shoulder. "We'll just have time to beat the rush at the deli downstairs and finish our shopping if we hustle."

"How can you expect me to hustle in these heels," I said.

"What you need, girl, is a good pair of boots. Come on, if we hurry we'll have time to shop for them, too."

"Aren't they really expensive?"

"Haven't you heard of credit cards?"

"Mine all got taken away when…well, you know."

"Well, get some new ones, for Heaven's sake! Look, if I can carry around Discover, Visa and MasterCard, anyone can." I felt like a babe in the woods as she schooled me on how to survive in the big city on a working girl's salary. When we found a great pair of boots at Carson Pirie Scott, the sales associate told me I could get an extra ten percent off if I opened a charge account, and before I knew it I was the proud owner of a comfortable pair of boots and my first credit card in the name of Anne Thrope. Gladys found me a pretty scarf with reindeers on it, and I even charged a pair of glittery pantyhose to wear with my red dress.

* * *

The party was scheduled to start at eight o'clock on the Friday before Christmas. When I told Donna that the other girls wanted me to go, she backed them up enthusiastically. "This will be great for you, baby. Just don't let yourself get caught under the mistletoe."

"Not much to worry about there. A guy would have to get pretty drunk to make that mistake."

"You never know."

"Will I see you this weekend?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm going to be tied up."

"All weekend?"

"Yep."

I had a sinking feeling. "When will I see you again?"

"I'll call you soon. Have a great time at the party."

I wondered what was wrong as I went through the motions to get ready for the party. Maybe Donna didn't like my new hairdo? Could it be something I'd said? I tried to put her out of my mind, but it was impossible not to be reminded of her by each little feminine thing that I did to myself. God, I'm beginning to think just like a woman, I thought sadly as I searched my closet for a pair of red heels to wear with my Christmas stockings.

I treated myself to a taxi to the Sheraton, not feeling safe alone on the streets after dark. With my Christmas scarf tied gaily around my neck, and bright red lipstick to match my dress and shoes, I turned a lot of heads when I walked into the ballroom where the party was in full swing. Gladys took me under her wing, and together we made our way through the bar and buffet lines. We carried our plates to a table occupied by a bunch of other girls, some of whom I knew and some of whom regarded me with open curiosity. One of them, who must have been on her fifth or sixth brandy and ginger, couldn't take her eyes of me. "Are you sure you're really a guy?" she finally blurted out. If that wasn't bad enough, two of the junior executives that I worked for came up to our table and went on and on about what a great secretary I was, how much they were going to miss me when I went back to being a man, and how they hoped that I'd like being a girl so much that I'd never go back. Miss Brandy Ginger told them to shove it, and I was shaking when Gladys suggested that we visit to the ladies room. We were halfway there when we got separated in the crowd around the dance floor. After searching for her for a few minutes, I gave up and headed for the ladies room. I was almost there when I came face to face with Richard Sharkman, the tight-assed executive who had taken my place as vice president.

"I'd ask you to dance, but I'm afraid they might start talking about us," he said with a phony smile. I tried to pass him, but he put his hand on my shoulder. "What's your hurry, Anne? I've been meaning to ask you how you're getting along in your new life."

I had to remind myself that Sharkman was a senior executive with considerable power over my destiny. If I were to have any chance of redeeming myself at the company, his support could be crucial. On the other hand, he probably regarded me as a threat – if he took me seriously. I decided to play it safe. "I'm doing as well as I can under the circumstances."

"I must say, you look marvelous. How do you do it?"

"Pardon?"

"Your hair, your makeup, the way you dress…one would almost think you'd been doing this all your life."

"I don't know whether that's a complement or an insult."

"Believe me, it's a complement." It was obvious that he had been drinking, heavily. "I find it all fascinating."

Oh God…what if he had a thing for chicks with dicks? I tried to break away, but he took my hand and tried to steer me towards the elevators. "I've taken a room upstairs. Why don't we get to know each other a little better?"

I twisted my hand, but weakened as I was by estrogen, I couldn't get away from him. Couldn't anybody see what was happening? I looked around, but everybody seemed to be in the ballroom, and the din from the dance band would drown out my cries for help. Where was Gladys? I felt myself being dragged towards the elevators. "Let's get out of here," Sharkman said.

Without thinking about the consequences, I kicked him right in the shin with the point of my high heel. He hit the floor with a thud, and before he could get back up I jumped into an elevator. I was waiting for the doors to close when I heard the voice of the assistant director of human resources coming over the PA system. "We have the winner of the trip to Vail," he announced. It was Gladys.

* * *

There was no word from Donna all weekend. I phoned in sick on Monday, hanging around my apartment miserably. The only call I had was from Gladys, who was anxious to know if I was all right.

"I'm okay. Got a touch of the flu, I guess. Congratulations on winning the trip."

"I'm so excited! My boyfriend and I are going to go in February."

"That's great. Tell me, have you seen Mr. Sharkman?"

"Sure, why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Like every year, he came on to half the women at the party."

"Really?"

"He was bombed out of his mind, as usual. One of the girls said he was so drunk he fell down. He probably doesn't remember a thing. But on Monday, he was right back at his desk."

I wasn't so sure. "I'm going to stay out till after Christmas."

"Good idea. It's dead around here. Have a great holiday!"

Christmas eve was the longest day of my life. I just sat there in my dreary apartment, looking at the tree that Donna had brought me, feeling very, very sorry for myself. I had a lot of time to think about my life, about the suffering that I had caused so many women by recklessly exposing them to Metabolean. If this was my penance, I deserved much worse.

I was about to turn in early when I spied an envelope just inside my door. How long has this been on the floor, and how did it get here, I wondered. Angels? When I opened it, I held my breath. It was a Christmas card from Donna. "Meet me at Lawry's at nine o'clock. Wear something special."

I raced into the kitchenette and looked at the clock on the microwave. It was almost eight thirty! Near panic, I tore off my jeans and top and dashed into my closet. What to wear? It had to be the red dress, reindeer scarf and crimson lipstick that knocked them dead at the holiday party, only this time I wore my new boots with my glittery stockings. I was getting pretty good at this, and by ten minutes to nine I was out on the sidewalk, trying desperately to hail a cab. On Christmas eve! The street outside my apartment was deserted, so with grim determination I started running down the sidewalk towards Michigan Avenue, thankful for my comfy boots as I covered the five blocks to Lawry's. It was a few minutes past nine when I emerged from the night into the elegant lobby, panting with exertion. I handed my coat to the attendant and chanced a quick trip to the ladies room. My shag was so easy to take care of, after a quick once over I was trying to look ladylike while presenting myself to the maitre d'.

"May I help you, Miss?"

"Trix, party of two."

He looked down at his book. "I show a reservation for Trix, but the other party is not here yet. Would you like to wait at the table?"

"That would be nice," I said, and I followed him to a quiet banquette resplendent with linen, crystal and silver. I had barely sat down when I saw a familiar face entering the room.

Familiar, yes, but so utterly different! It was Donna, all right, with a full beard and mustache, dressed in a double-breasted suit, crisp white shirt and Hermes tie. I stared open-mouthed as she, or rather he, slid into the seat beside me. "Sorry I'm late," he said in a husky voice before he kissed me on the cheek.

"Donna, is that you?"

"It's Donald, at least for now, but you can call me Don."

"What did you do to yourself?"

"You're one to talk." The wine steward materialized, and Don ordered an expensive bottle of French champagne. When we were alone again, he said, "I guess I owe you an explanation, so here goes: as you can probably imagine, I have a lot of…issues in terms of my own gender identity. I mean, you don't become a dominatrix overnight. I've struggled with it for years, but it wasn't until I met you that I decided to live out my dreams."

"What did I have to do with it?"

"Everything! You showed me that if I had the courage to try, I might be able to succeed in switching sexes. The way you pulled it off with my family on Thanksgiving was so amazing. I never really intended to fall in love with you that night, but that's what happened." He took my hand and kissed me again, gently on the lips this time. "Then there's the other thing you did that made this all possible."

"What?" I whispered.

"Did you know that there is a huge black market for Metabolean? It's selling for $100 a pop in Boys Town."

"But why?"

"It turns out that Metabolean is a perfect a catalyst for hormone replacement therapy, allowing the transition from female-to-male in a matter of days. Just look at me."