Christmas Fairy Ch. 01

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He finds the Christmas Fairy on his pillow.
4.7k words
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/14/2022
Created 11/20/2004
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oggbashan
oggbashan
1,507 Followers

Chapter 01: Growing

Copyright Oggbashan November 2004

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

This story was inspired by Piers Anthony's short story 'The Bridge'. I cannot describe this as an original work only as a variation on his theme.

* * * * *

On the way from the garage where he parked his car, to the inconspicuous side alley with access to the stairs leading to his penthouse flat, Paul passed a travel agent's shop window. He amused himself every workday evening contemplating the places he could choose to visit. The last couple of weeks he had being looking at something different in the shop window.

Just behind the posters stood a Christmas tree. The decorations were bland and looked as if they had been bought in bulk with little care. Except one: the fairy at the top of the tree. The tip of the tree disappeared under her wide flaring calf-length silver skirt. Her silver top strained across partly concealed breasts. Her golden hair spread over her shoulders. She looked down at Paul with a pitying expression as if she had seen so many men like him, work-dominated and loveless. Her expression seemed to promise kind loving companionship with no illusions about the frailties of the human male. Wherever Paul stood her eyes seemed to be looking straight into his.

Each night for the past week Paul's dreams had been haunted by a full sized version of that fairy. He imagined himself sated with sex and lying cradled against her disproportionately large breasts as she stroked his hair and sang a lullaby. Each morning Paul promised himself that he would walk around the block instead of passing the fairy's shop window. Each evening he would forget until he was standing in front of the shop looking up at her face.

He noticed details about her. Her hand was raised as if holding an invisible wand. She could be blessing passers-by. Her wings had gone. She showed signs of age in her face as if she had grown older with the passing of the years. She seemed to have a special fascination for Paul, why he couldn't tell. Was it the expression, the raised forgiving hand, the missing wings that suggested she was more mortal than most fairies...?

*****

The planet's dominant species was dying. It had happened before and the trend had been reversed when an exploration team from another species landed just in time.

The wise ones had constructed a male and female duplicating apparently nubile specimens of the visiting species and had programmed the replicas to seek sexual intercourse. The semen and vaginal discharge of the visitors had been used to re-invigorate the gene pool and reverse the decline.

That had been thousands of years ago. There had been no visitors since then. The wise ones had spent massive amounts of the planet's resources on the construction of a mass transfer device that reached Earth. Once there a stasis field had to be maintained while the remote transfer station was constructed using Earth materials. Now completed, the transfer station was used to begin building a female replica of a human. It was hoped the replica could attract a human male to deposit his spermatozoa in her. The spermatozoa, transferred to the home planet, would initiate the regeneration of the home planet's biology.

Unfortunately the wise ones found that they had made a basic miscalculation. Earth had been the only planet they could reach with their mass transfer device and they had skimped their basic research. The dominant species on Earth looked similar to their own, ignoring minor details such as skin colour and body hair, but at first, until it was too late, they had not understood that the species was many times larger. The largest person on the home planet stood seven 'xxxx's (translation not possible) high. An average adult human male on Earth stood one hundred and forty times that height.

The wise ones worked as hard as they could to correct their error. They forced their construct to grow as fast as she could but it was a race against advancing death on their home planet. As many of their people as was possible were put into cryogenic tanks. They could be revived if the transfer was successful. The planet's resources were plundered to speed up the construct's development. She had been named 'Minnie' as a joke since she would stand at a sixth of a human male's height and twelve times taller than the largest person on the home planet, a veritable giant. Her vagina was a marvel of ingenuity. It connected directly to the Earth based mass transfer unit. Anything deposited in her vagina would enter the mass transfer unit. It could then be transferred to the home planet, or stored, or returned to Minnie. Any product returned to her could be used several ways.

The cultural anthropologist, the closest approximation to her name is Sarah, had carefully selected the potential donor, Paul Smith. He was divorced but the undoubted father of children. His sperm was therefore assumed to be potent. A sample from a sheet had confirmed this. Sarah had been studying Paul for months. She knew the sort of woman that would attract him, the sort of actions by that woman that might seduce him, and his willingness to take a risk. A married man might hesitate and the wise ones, and Sarah, had their own system of morality. They could not countenance the seduction of someone who had other commitments.

Some of the wise ones were criticised for the length of time that they had spent constructing and growing Minnie. Surely a construct a twelfth of Paul's size would be sufficient? What was special about a sixth? Patiently Sarah explained that Minnie was the size of a magazine centrefold and therefore familiar to Paul as an erotic symbol. It would be difficult enough to persuade Paul to penetrate a person apparently so small (Small! The critics snorted.) and it was essential that Minnie should be obviously mature and fully developed. The size of Minnie's breasts were also ridiculed. Surely they were out of proportion? Sarah sent them copies of a centrefold scanned from Earth. That silenced the critics.

The wise ones and Minnie still had several obstacles to overcome. The transfer station could only animate Minnie for one hour. During that time she had to seduce Paul, get his consent to the transfer of his spermatozoa and achieve successful coition. Once the transfer had been completed Minnie's task would be complete and she would die... unless. But it seemed unlikely that she could induce Paul to allow her to survive. The wise ones were slightly dismayed that they had made an intelligent being that would die so soon but they could see no alternative. Animating Minnie had been ruinously expensive. They could not afford to continue to animate her after her task was fulfilled however strongly Sarah argued for Minnie's life. The only concession Sarah wrung from them was a slight modification of the remote transfer apparatus so that Minnie could still use it after the main purpose had been achieved.

They had transported the Christmas fairy from their planet to the travel shop persuaded by Sarah that one of the travel shop assistants would take pity on the apparently abandoned fairy. The fairy had been constructed as a trial unanimated model of Minnie, who herself, was the best approximation they could make to Paul's fantasy woman. Sarah was convinced that if Paul saw the fairy, Minnie's subsequent seduction would be easier and quicker. She hadn't convinced everyone. Whether Sarah was right or wrong, everything rested on Minnie. If they had made a miscalculation, other than the size and that couldn't be corrected, their civilisation was doomed.

Paul woke as something stroked his cheek. He turned his head. Something scuttled out of the way. He reached behind him and turned on the bedside light. What had touched him? Was it a moth? The touch was soft and fleeting. He looked again.

There, standing on his pillow, was the woman/fairy of his dreams. She had shed her top to reveal a silver bikini that strained to cover her breasts. Her silver skirt spread over her hips. She had a beautiful golden skin contrasting with her long blonde hair. Her figure... she was obviously very adult with a flawless face that looked as if it had seen too much and yet could still understand.

Paul just stared. This vision was perfect. She was better than any dream he had ever had. This woman was an exact evocation of every physical attribute he found desirable. Her maturity was just right. He didn't feel comfortable with younger women. This one was old enough without appearing to be older than Paul. Even her stance was provocative without being too overt. He shook his head. He must still be dreaming.

"Well, Paul?" the vision said, opening its luscious mouth and revealing perfectly white teeth, "are you just going to lie there or are you going to DO something?"

"What...?" Paul spluttered.

"Here I am, the woman you have always wanted, and you are just lying there like a beached whale. I want you. You know you want me. Do something about it and I don't mean write poetry."

That shook Paul. He didn't think anyone knew about his poetry. His poems were buried in a password-protected file on his hard drive. He wrote poems about neighbouring women he found attractive; women he passed in the street; women who were shop assistants and women he met. He never wrote about the centrefolds he collected. He could dream about them but he played five-finger exercises while thinking about the women he wrote about.

He reached out for the woman. As his hand moved the shock of her actual size hit him. This woman, ideal vision of his dreams, was about a foot high. His forefinger seemed enormous as her hands grasped its tip. Her small hands sent a thrill through his body as she squeezed his fingertip. She pulled his finger around her naked waist. Her skin was so soft, so smooth, so silky and so warm. His sheet tented with his instinctive response.

The woman looked down at the sheet.

"There's the proof. You react to me. All I want is for you to make love to me – now!"

"How can I? You are so small," Paul protested.

"I'm not small where it matters. See..."

The woman unzipped the skirt and stepped out of it. It lay there like a silver cone dented at the top. She untied the bikini panties and threw them aside, showing a hairless cleft. She turned his finger and mounted it. Paul gasped as his forefinger disappeared wholly inside her. Her buttocks pushed against his hand.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"You can call me Minnie. We are wasting time. I want you inside me and I don't mean your finger."

Minnie wiggled on his finger. Despite himself Paul groaned. She felt just like the warm wet inside of a full-sized woman.

"Well? Will you?"

Her body squeezed his finger.

"Yes," Paul gasped.

"Good. Will you let me have anything you produce? All of it?"

"Yes, Minnie."

She lifted herself off his finger and ran down his body. Her tiny feet tickled his chest. She burrowed under the sheet. Paul lifted the sheet and threw it to one side. He wanted to see.

His erection was standing tall. For once he was pleased that he was not over-endowed. His erection was an average size, good enough but nothing special. Minnie grasped his shaft with her arms and legs as she climbed it. She turned to face Paul.

"Here we go."

Minnie spread her legs and slid Paul's erection inside her. It was impossible. Her torso was barely wide enough. He must have displaced all her internal organs and his tip would be beyond her neck. The sensation was like a full-sized woman. Paul looked as Minnie bounced up and down. She was so desirable, so beautiful, so arousing and yet shared the Christmas fairy's look of experience. He wanted to close his eyes so that he could imagine that Minnie was a real woman but he couldn't. The Minnie straddling him was so exciting.

Within a few seconds he'd come into her in an uncontrollable spurt. The pressure nearly lifted Minnie of her perch. She held on with her arms and legs, her face grimacing with the strain. That grimace touched Paul's heart. Minnie was trying so hard, putting all her effort into satisfying him. She squeezed, panting as she extracted the last drop from him. Who was he that such a creature should come to him? If only she was larger, human size...

Minnie relaxed as Paul's tool became slack. Tears ran down her cheeks. She dismounted and sat down beside his toppled erection. The facial lines that had been there but barely visible were now etched deep as if with complete exhaustion.

"What's up, Minnie?" Paul asked.

"I've done it. Now I'm done for."

"What do you mean?"

Minnie explained about the home planet, the wise ones and their need. She spoke for about ten minutes before she admitted that now she was condemned to death within the hour.

On Minnie's home planet the wise ones were celebrating. They had succeeded beyond their wildest hopes. Minnie had extracted enough from Paul to supply the planet's needs for a thousand years. Only Sarah was not joining in the party. She wiped a tear from her eye at the thought of abandoning Minnie to her death so far from home. So much care and even love had gone into Minnie's construction and training. Minnie's task was done and she had been discarded like a used tampon. Sarah scuttled away to the Ladies' room to weep in private.

"I want to live so much," Minnie said slowly. "I have been 'alive' for twenty minutes and I want more than the next forty minutes. I understand that the wise ones can't keep me alive. I have cost them so much already."

"Is there no way of saving you?"

"There is but it asks a lot of you."

"Me?"

"Yes, Paul. Everything you gave me has been transferred to the home planet. It was so much that it will revive everyone and keep the planet's ecology going for hundreds if not a thousand of their years. It was a wonderful gift to them. I should have kept just a little back. That might have kept me going for a day or two..."

"A day or two? Minnie, how much do you need for a week, a month?"

"I would have kept a minute amount. For a week, perhaps I need a thousandth of the total."

"How long have you got now, Minnie?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Then, with luck we can save you. Start stroking and cuddling me and we might succeed."

"We might? You'd do that for me?"

"Yes, Minnie. Why not? It isn't much to do to save your life. I enjoyed last time."

Minnie shed her bikini top. Paul gasped at her tiny perfect breasts. He felt something begin to stir as her breasts slid up and down his shaft. Unfortunately he was now fully awake and the unreality of the situation was impeding his arousal. He stroked Minnie's silky blonde hair as she worked to rouse him. He closed his eyes and imagined Minnie as five foot tall. That worked. He felt Minnie straddle him again and her body sink down around him. Then she spoke. The illusion shattered and his tool slumped again.

"Paul?"

"Yes, Minnie?" It was almost a sigh. They had been so close to success.

"I need your agreement before I can use what you give me. I can do three things with it. I can give it to the home planet. I can use it to improve my brain. I can use it to grow my body. I can use some for each purpose. What do you want me to do?"

Paul groaned. If they didn't succeed soon Minnie would be dead. He didn't want to lose her.

"Do whatever you want, Minnie. It is yours: a free gift now and each time."

"You really mean that, Paul?" Minnie's voice sounded incredulous.

"Yes, Minnie. You choose whatever you want, now and forever, if there is a forever."

"Thank you Paul."

Minnie's gratitude was obvious. She wrapped her body around Paul's slackened erection and in a few seconds it was standing tall inside her. Despite the short time since he had re-animated a planet Paul came so suddenly that he was surprised. She had wrung him dry with almost professional skill. As he relaxed he glanced at the clock. They had made it with five minutes to spare.

He had a niggling doubt that Minnie could have aroused him much quicker. Her skills were great and she had been designed to appeal specifically to him. He dismissed the thought. Minnie was saved for a while. If this was all it took to keep her alive it wasn't a great price to pay. If she could grow?

Minnie was lying against his stomach with her hair spread out on his skin. His finger touched her hair. It was so fine, so sensuous to touch. How would it feel if she grew? Surely she couldn't grow much. What difference would it make if she was fifteen inches or eighteen inches high? She still couldn't be his partner.

Her body was still perfect, showing no signs of the massive intrusion it had apparently endured. Her tiny breasts moved almost imperceptibly as she breathed. Minnie was asleep. Paul did not dare sleep in case he rolled over and crushed her. He watched her, marvelling at her exquisite form.

He slept despite his good intentions. When he woke he was terror stricken. Had he crushed Minnie? With that thought came the possibility that he had just dreamed a minute seductress. He searched the bed. There was no sign of Minnie, not even a crushed body. He sat down on the bed with a thump. Grief for what might have been filled him. If Minnie had been a dream it had been the most realistic and exciting dream he had ever had. If she hadn't been a dream – what had happened to her?

"Paul?"

He sighed with relief. She was still alive and still here.

"Yes, Minnie," he replied, his voice shaking.

"What do you like for breakfast?"

"What?"

"I asked: 'What do you like for breakfast?' Didn't you hear me?"

"I did, Minnie, but how..."

Paul had thrown a T-shirt on as he walked through his flat to the kitchen. Minnie's voice seemed to come from there. He reached the kitchen door way as he said 'how'. He stopped dead.

Minnie was sitting on a kitchen stool cradling a cup of coffee. Instead of the twelve inches height she had been last night she was now three foot tall. One of Paul's smaller T-shirts covered her from neck to ankle.

"How?" he repeated.

"How," replied Minnie. "Isn't that a Native American greeting? You're not a Native American, Paul, are you?"

"No, I'm not..." Paul paused. "How do you know about Native Americans, Minnie?"

"While you were sleeping I did some study. I used some of your product to enhance my brain. Remember that you agreed I could use it for whatever I wanted? I used some for growth and some for more brain power."

"Some for growth? How? You had a few cubic centimetres of my 'product' and yet you have trebled in size. That's not possible, not as far as my knowledge of science goes."

"Maybe not in your knowledge, Paul. You weren't good at science at school, were you? If you think of your product as a catalyst that enables me to use other materials then it is possible. That's why I asked you what you wanted for breakfast. I've eaten or 'used' most of the foodstuffs stored in your kitchen. I presume you can buy more?"

"Er... Yes, I can." Paul thought hard. How much food had there been in the kitchen? Not very much because he bought from the corner mart at least twice a week and from the supermarket on Saturdays. This was Saturday morning so he had been low on food. How could she have grown so much with so little food? Then he thought 'How does she know I wasn't good at science?'.

"So, what do you want for breakfast? You still have cereal and a couple of eggs. Do you want an omelette?"

"No thanks, cereal and coffee will do..."

"Coming up."

Minnie slid from the stool to the floor. She filled a bowl with cereal, added exactly the right amount of milk and sugar and presented it to Paul. He took it and slumped down on to a stool. This was unreal. Minnie laid a cup of coffee beside the bowl. Paul grabbed it as if it were a life-saving drug and swigged. As the coffee passed his lips he was aware that it was the right strength, the right temperature – things even he didn't achieve every time.

oggbashan
oggbashan
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