The Perfect Holiday Gift

Chapter One

"Who'd like a little holiday cheer to help raise their spirits?" Joy bellowed as she leaned over my cubicle wall and almost dropped a full carton of eggnog into my lap.

I peered up from my computer monitor. "I ah ..."

"Nonsense, I won't take no for an answer," she said and filled my dirty coffee mug to the brim. I almost gagged, the rum in it reeked like gasoline.

She grinned like a goblin, her waxy red lips curling up into daggers. She was iced like a cake. Her make-up was like a three ring circus. Her blazing red hair was the shape of a bonfire. The two plastic reindeer that hung from her ears looked like they'd been pried off of a carousel with a crowbar.

"Look at you. You're such a good worker bee. Why don't you shut down for the evening and come join us. We've got heaps of holiday treats."

"I ah ... I still have a few things to finish up before the weekend," I lied.

She swung her mug over the cubicle wall. It was a bloated grinning Santa head with a bright rosy red nose. She clumsily filled it, spilling almost as much onto my desk.

"I'm sure it can wait till Monday. You wouldn't want to miss out on the pre-game fun before tonight's festivities."

Tonight's festivities, I thought. What festivities?

Oh god, of course. I'd almost managed to clear it from my short term memory ... the annual company holiday party. Today was the day it had taken hostage. I'd seen and ignored every poster they'd plastered around the office and deleted all the emails. Unless it was mandatory, or paid, they'd have to drag me there kicking and screaming.

"Ah ... well. No, unfortunately, I can't make it," I said, lying yet again.

"What? No, you must come! It's our annual holiday spectacular. There's going to be appetizers, dancing and door prizes! Can I sweeten the deal with a few extra drink tickets?"

"Sorry, no thanks. I ah ... have other plans," I said, trying to think of a good excuse. How many of my grandparents were still kicking?

She frowned, her features crumpling up like a dry leaf.

"Well that's a shame, a real shame. Oh well. You're still planning on picking up Mr. Walker's holiday gift though, right?"

Holiday gift, I thought. What holiday gift?

"You got the email, right? The one I CCed to you. The one you replied too?"

I smiled, the type of smile I used when I was cornered like an animal.

"Of course, gift ... pick up the gift. I'm picking up Mr. Walker's holiday gift. How could I forget?"

"Excellent, well, we'll all miss you at the party, but I super appreciate you doing that ... I ..."

There was a sudden flurry of activity behind her as a massive blob lunged at her.

"Conga ... conga con-GA!"

She was swept away by a conga line. I watched as she disappeared back into a sea of tacky holiday sweaters and plush reindeer antlers.

Email ... email, what email was she talking about? How had I inadvertently agreed to deliver a holiday gift? I prided myself on my ability to worm my way out of any unnecessary responsibilities, and this sounded like something someone responsible would do.

I opened my email browser. It would have made a hoarder blush. There was no organization, no order, just a swamp of digital noise. I scrolled through, trying to find the incriminating document. Sure enough, there it was, floating near the surface like a dead rat. Joy had sent a company wide email, omitting of course, Mr. Walker, asking everyone to pitch in a few extra dollars for his holiday gift. Everyone had replied except me. It wasn't until she had asked someone to pick it up that I'd finally chimed in.

"Sure," I'd replied.

Sure ...

I'd damned myself with four simple letters.

I let out a low groan and eyed my dirty coffee cup filled with day old coffee, rum and a splash of eggnog for festive colouring. I reached over, grabbed it and took a big gulp. It had a kick like a mull. I jotted down the directions and grabbed my coat.

I might as well get this over with, I thought. Then at least I'd have the remainder of the weekend to enjoy to myself in peace.

Chapter Two

I curled up under the subway's window and watched as the concrete maze sped past me at warp speed. There were still several stops to go before I arrived at my destination, so I let my mind wander.

This job, this crumby job. Why hadn't I quit it? Was it the fear of financial ruin? Did I still believe it had any potential as a stepping stone to something better?

I'd felt like a stranger ... except once upon a time.

It had been the one time I'd allowed myself to step out of my comfort zone. Up until that point, I was just another forgettable face in a stiff shirt.

Halloween.

For one day, and one day only, we were allowed to ignore the rigid dress code and wear whatever we wanted. I'd shunned it the previous years and hadn't participated. But this year ... this year was different.

"My god ... is that really you under all that?" Joy had asked when she saw me.

I smiled and felt my thick glossy lipstick slide as I pressed my lips together. I brushed a long wisp of hair aside and looked up at her.

"Surprise," I whispered.

"Wow, the resemblance is uncanny, let me guess, you're international film star and award winning actress Gillian Ash?"

"Correct," I said softly.

"You could have fooled me. If I hadn't known it was you, I would have sworn it was actually her. You too aren't related by any chance?" she asked.

"Not that I know of."

"Well ..." Joy said and continued to stare at me as if hypnotized. "Well anyway, don't forget to enter the costume contest. We'll be holding it at three."

I did, and I won.

I spent the remainder of the day wearing the long flowing sequin dress and five inch high heels I'd picked up at a second hand clothing store. I sat at my desk, my legs crossed, the thin silky nylons gently rubbing against each other. The shoes pinched a little, but I didn't mind. I didn't quite understand what had inspired me to dress in drag, nor did I care, but I savored every second of it.

"Congratulations!" Joy said when she passed by my cubicle. "I'm here to deliver your grand prize."

"Grand prize?" I asked. "I wasn't even aware there was one."

"That makes the two of us. I've never seen Mr. Walker this enthusiastic about one of our team building exercises. He popped by my office, which he never does, and handed me this, and insisted I give it to the winner," she said, and pulled out a gold envelope.

"I'm not sure what it is, but I bet it's something really special," she said and handed it too me.

I felt the weight of the envelope in my hand. The cardboard was thick, infused with gold glitter.

"I still have a few fires to put out before I call it a day. It was lovely meeting you Gillian, I hope we see you again soon." she said, smiled, turned and left.

I sat there staring at the gold envelope for several minutes. Finally, I opened it and pulled out a single piece of stationary paper.

Congratulations, it read in bold hand writing, followed underneath by, I owe you something special, and a signature that was almost illegible. Aaron Walker.

I owe you something special ... an IOU is the grand prize, I thought. Really? Are you kidding me. Rubbish. I stuffed it back into the gold envelope, crumpled it up and threw it into my trash can.

I heard a mechanical jingle and slipped out of my trance. I looked up, saw the name of my station whisk by and realized in horror, that I'd missed my stop. I jolted up out of my seat and dashed for the door.

Idiot, I thought, now you're going to have to back track. I looked up at the subway map. Thankfully, I was in the downtown core and the stops were piled one on top of each other. I tapped my sneakers impatiently and stared out through the thick glass as the train rocketed through the underground burrow. A few seconds later it arrived at the next stop. I dashed through the open doors, up the concrete stairwell to the street above.

A light snow had begun to fall, which was rare. The tightly packed buildings formed a protective bubble that kept it out.

The city didn't feel festive. Even with all the lavishly decorated department stores and heavy advertising, it felt hollow, like its heart was missing.

The address I had scribbled down was close. It was the Regency Royal, one of the most lavish hotels in the entire city. It was easy to spot, like a dagger piercing the sky. I moved quickly, weaving in between the holiday shoppers and taxis that buzzed past me like aggravated mosquitos.

As I walked, I heard the sound of bells and carols piping out from every available speaker. Maybe the holiday spirit was there, maybe it was just me.

I saw the Regency Royal. A doorman in a thick long coat stood between two tall well groomed potted plants. I smiled meekly as I walked past him and stepped inside.

The interior was like an exquisite watch. The walls were the colour of polished onyx with a gold trim, the plants like raw jade. I'd never seen so much wealth before. It was spread like butter over every surface.

I approached the front desk. Thankfully, there was no line.

The conversation with the front desk clerk was smooth until I discovered Mr. Walker's gift wasn't behind the front desk.

"Well, then were is it?" I asked.

He smiled at me smugly and handed me a room key.

527? Why was his gift in room 527?

I didn't bother to ask. I flashed him a fake smile, took the key card and headed to the elevators. As I stood there, waiting, I stared up at the panel of circular buttons as they lit up. The door opened, and I and several other guests shuffled into the cramped box.

I watched them from the corner of my eye. They were elegant, wealthy, just like Mr. Walker.

I'd never met him. He worked in the executive suite, several floors above me and rarely ventured down into the dirty burrows where we were all packed like rats. I'd been told that a private helicopter flew him in every day and dropped him off on the roof, but that might have been some BS they told the new hires. It was odd that every one was pitching in to buy him a holiday gift. What could we possibly get him that he didn't already own?

The elevator reached my floor and I stepped out.

525 ... 526... 527.

I slid the keycard into the mechanical lock and it beeped. The door opened and I entered. The room smelled like a new car, everything was wiped down, clean and sparkled.

As far as hotel rooms went, it wasn't to luxurious. There was a small bathroom on my right and a narrow hallway which led to the main bedroom.

I still couldn't think of a good reason why his gift needed to be stored in a hotel room. I didn't hear any growling. Whatever it was, it wasn't an animal. I stepped into the bedroom and saw ...

... a box, a very large box on the bed. It was bright red like a candy coated apple. There was a big fluffy bow on the lid.

How the hell am I going to carry that downstairs, I thought.

As I stepped closer, I noticed there was a note on top of it and oddly enough, it was addressed to me.

Why me?

I opened it and read it. I recognized Joy's hand writing. I skipped all the opening pleasantries and went right for the meat.

"... and after several weeks of scratching our heads, trying to think of what to get for the man who has everything, it dawned on us ... not what ... who."

Who? I thought as I stared at the strange box.

My curiosity got the better of me. What harm would there be if I took a quick peek? The box wasn't sealed. No one would ever be the wiser.

I set the note down and carefully started to pry the lid off. It popped open and I looked inside. I saw ...

Lingerie ... lots of lingerie.

The most prominent piece was a black corset. The thin nylon shimmered like fish scale, the underwire was as rigid as bone. There were two bows set above a pair of garters. A pair of G-string panties was folded neatly beside it. Tucked in the side of the box was a package of nylons the colour of piping hot coffee. There were also several other boxes, and below all of that, a sea of black sequins.

Sequins ...

I picked the note up again and continued to read.

"After some clever detective work we discovered that Mr. Walker is a HUGE fan of Gillian Ash. So we thought, who better to be his date for the holiday party than ..."

"Oh no ... oh, no, no, no." I shouted into the empty hotel room. "They can't be serious. This is insane, madness!"

From the corner of the room I heard a piercing howl. I leapt up and almost dropped the note. I spun around and stared at it, my brain, unable to process what I was looking at.

It's a phone idiot. The phone is ringing.

Should I answer it? They knew I was in here. After all, they'd given me the key. Maybe it was Joy. Maybe she'd realized just how absurd the idea was and was calling to tell me the whole thing was off.

I crept over and picked it up.

"Hu ... hello?" I croaked.

"Mrs. Ash?" The voice on the other end asked. It wasn't Joy.

I froze, unable to speak. I looked down, lifted the note and read the last line.

"... so how about it, can Gillian come out to play?"

I looked up, and caught my own reflection in the mirror. My eyes were hollow, empty like a dirty fish bowl. The pits underneath were sunken. How many hours had I worked this week, did I even remember?

"Mrs. Ash, I need an answer. Will you be joining us this evening?" the voice asked.

"Yes," I said softly.

"Excellent. The car will arrive in one hour and wait for you at the front door," they said and hung up.

"Oh ... ok," I said, and I slowly placed the phone back down on the receiver.

My eyes drifted around the room, unable to focus on anything. I felt like I was standing on the deck of a ship about to capsize.

What had I just agreed too?

I stumbled back to the box and looked inside. Everything I needed was there. I picked up and opened a long thin rectangular box. It contained a wig, one which was a perfect replica of Gillian Ash, the real Gillian Ash's hair. It was high end, light years beyond the dead limp mop I'd bought online and worn.

I opened another box. It contained a pair of black high heel shoes. They were the colour of wet asphalt. The lines curved gently from the heel to the tip of the toe. The stiletto was like a sharpened nail. They were also the correct size. How had Joy figured out what size shoe I wore? It wasn't something that HR kept track of ... was it?

There was also a full set of make-up, lotions and razors. Joy really had thought of everything, hadn't she.

I reached in, and gently pulled out the black sequin dress. It melted in my hands like warm fudge. The sequins dazzled, the fabric cut from a starry night.

Why not, I quietly thought to myself. What would be the harm?

I looked over at the digital clock resting on the night stand. When was the car arriving? An hour? Not a lot of time, but enough.

I felt a strange electricity surge in the pit of my stomach. It was the same energy I'd savored during Halloween. It was to sweet to ignore. I dropped the note, grabbed the lotion, and the razor and dashed into the bathroom. I stripped and turned on the shower. Pale wisps of steam slowly filled the room. I stepped into the shower and let the water wrap around me like a warm blanket. I built up a soapy lather and spread it over my entire body. The razor made short work of the hair that had popped up since I'd last cut it down.

I leaned down and slid my hand over my smooth legs. Judging by the way several of my male and even a few of my female co-workers had leered at them while I was in drag, it was safe to assume they were one of my stronger assets.

After I'd scrubbed every inch and washed my hair, I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my soaking wet body and stepped back into the bedroom. My fingers were tingling. My nerves, raw. I'd never worn lingerie before. For Halloween I'd kept it simple and just worn boxers underneath the sequin dress.

I stepped over to the box, reached inside and pulled out the black corset. It was as light as a feather. The material sparkled like a glamorous premiere. A row of tiny hooks secured the back. I undid them one at a time and opened it.

I hesitated and stared at it. It looked like a spring loaded trap ready to snap shut.

Halloween had been one thing, but this ... this felt different.

Was it? Why? How far down the rabbit hole could I fall before I'd be permanently labeled ... I silently mouthed the words ... a crossdresser?

My heart was a caged animal, clawing at the insides of my chest. My eyes were famished. I couldn't hold back any longer. I needed to know.

I wrapped the corset around my chest, and started to attach the hooks. It bit into my sides, and tightened like a vice. I spaced out my breathing, taking short, quick breaths.

I picked up the black G string panties next. I tucked and slid them on. They fell into place as if they were a missing piece of a puzzle.

I reached back into the box and pulled out the packet of nylons, turned, and walked to the bed. The lingerie tightened, and attempted to correct my crude movements. Act more feminine, I thought, and arched my back and let my hips sway like a bell. It subsided.

I sat down on the bed and looked at the nylons. The packaging was embossed with silver lettering. It didn't look like the cheap no-name brand pantyhose you'd find at a pharmacy. It looked expensive, specially ordered. It opened like a wedding invitation. I gently pulled the nylons out. If silk could be brought to a low boil and gently stirred - that is how smooth I'd describe them.

I rolled them up into a tight donut and dipped my toes in. It embraced my skin, hugging every curve as it rose up to my thigh. I pulled on the garter, pried its metal jaws open and let it bite down. With all four secured, the foundation of my outfit was now complete.

I stood up and admired myself in the mirror. The lingerie complimented every line. The black corset had kneaded my body like a thick dough, reshaping it into an hour glass figure. The black panties had magically devoured any trace of my natural junk. My hips curved out, retreating into my long slender legs.

The shoes, I'd almost forgotten the shoes.

I'd bought the pair I'd worn on Halloween at a second hand store. I'd guessed my size, as I wasn't quite sure how the conversion worked, then picked from what little selection there was. They were uncomfortable, tight, and even though my feet throbbed at the end of the day, I was reluctant to take them off.

I walked back to the large box, picked up the shoe box and opened it. The black heels were cradled in white tissue paper. The stiletto heels were like daggers compared to the worn down stubs glued to the bottom of my second hand shoes.

I sat on the bed, leaned down and slipped on the high heels. They were a perfect fit. I stood up. My center of gravity shifted, rose, as did my ass, which was propped up and pushed out like it was being prominently displayed in a department store window.

I checked myself in the mirror again. The illusion was almost complete, but I still needed to apply make-up, add the wig and of course, slip into the dress. I decided to start with the make-up.

Everything I'd learned, I'd learned online. I'd waded through a sea of endless tutorials and found the best. I'd watched them dozens of times, committing every detail to memory.

I grabbed the make-up case, pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the mirror.

I seemed to have an odd knack for it. The brush strokes came naturally, as if I was drawing from a pool of talent I was unaware of.

I started with the foundation, using it to cover up any signs of fatigue. Weeks of stress and overtime were washed away in a few gentle strokes. All the tools I needed had been provided, including tweezers. I picked them up and started to reign in my feral eyebrows, trimming them down till they were as sharp as daggers.