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I'll Be Home for Christmas
It had all the makings of another great Christmas. I just had to drop off some gifts and then I was on a plane bound for Maui for two weeks with Carly. As I got into my car, gifts in tow, I had to pause for a moment and reflect on how spectacular my life was. It was the last time I could view the world with such optimism.
Perhaps a bit of background will illuminate what I mean by spectacular. I was 21 years old, a senior in college at UCLA. I was a shade under six foot and had a sleek physique from three years of intramural swimming. At that point, I had already accepted a job offer with one of the top consulting firms in NYC and was basically on coast mode in terms of academics until graduation. That left me plenty of time for more "rewarding" pursuits. For some reason, all the women I was seeing demanded monogamy. Truly a stifling requirement given my location in the babe-capital of the country.
But since I liked each of my girls so much, I ended up going to a great deal of effort in keeping up the appearance of a monogamous relationship with each of them. It wasn't easy. If you've ever tried keeping four different sets of birthdays and anniversaries straight, you'd know that it's practically a full time job. And believe me when I tell you there were a couple of really close calls when the whole thing almost came unraveled.
If I had to pick a favorite, it was probably Carly. Aside from being a blonde knockout, she was very sweet and not the stereotypical LA bimbo. I think she inherited many street and business smarts from her father. He was independently wealthy from starting a healthcare business that made revolutionary prosthetics for burn and breast cancer victims. He was also the benefactor behind our little Hawaii vacation.
Not that the other girls would not have made fine catches. Annie was shy, with a very analytical mind (and surprisingly a demon in the sack). Jane was a health nut with a stomach you could bounce dollar bills off of. And Spike, well I think the name says it all.
So this is how it came to be, that I, a week before Christmas, was getting into my car to drop off presents for my four lady friends and hopefully spend a little quality time with each. I allotted a couple of hours for each, meaning it was going to be a full day.
I got to Annie's apartment at about 10AM. She had just gotten up and looked great in a pair of flannel pajamas. She opened her present; it was a tennis bracelet that she just loved. (Did I mention that my father was a jeweler?) In fact, she was so impressed with the present, we decided to proceed to bed for MY present.
After a quick bite for lunch, I pulled into the driveway of Jane's apartment complex. When I walked through her door, she had assumed her usual position running on her treadmill in lovely tan tights and light blue leotard. I came up behind her and suddenly put my hands on her shoulders. Bad move. Did I mention she had a brown belt in tae kwan doe? She grabbed my arm, jumped off the treadmill and flipped me over before I knew what hit me. Jane finally realized it was just me, and picked me up off the ground. Then, she saw her present on the ground and dropped me again to pick that up. Jane just loved the gold necklace (noticing the trend yet?), and decided to reward me for it. Apparently, her mouth gets as much of a workout as the rest of her.
I got to Spike's at about 2:30PM. I was a little behind schedule and frankly exhausted after the two previous workouts. But, anything worth doing is worth doing well. So I gathered my remaining strength and her gift and knocked on her door. Spike wasted no time. She pulled me into her room and slapped some cuffs on my wrists. Before I even knew what hit me, she had my cuffed wrists hooked onto a chain attached to the ceiling and over my head.
"Hello, Fred," she purred as she gave me a kiss. She noticed the present and tore into it immediately. It was a lovely red spiked collar with a locking clasp. She loved it and proceeded to demonstrate her appreciation for the next hour.
By the time six PM rolled around, I thought I was going to pass out. But I went home and cleaned myself up. I had a dinner date with Carly.
We went to her favorite frou-frou French restaurant. We had a great time, helped particularly along by my Christmas present to her. Carly gushed over the diamond stud earrings. They weren't even the big diamonds. It was somewhere during the course of that dinner that I came to a revelation. Carly could be the one. I mean, I could see myself spending the rest of my life with her. As crazy as it sounded and possibly influenced by the bottle of wine, I resolved at the dinner table that I was going to break up with the others and I was going to ask Carly to get engaged the next day. I was so giddy at the prospect that I passed up the chance to spend the night with her. I told her I had important errands to run first thing in the morning, but that I had to have a very important talk with her the next day.
That morning, I woke up and headed to my father's shop to pick up a ring. After that, I had to make three dreaded phone calls. Annie did not take the news well at all. She would not stop crying. Jane seemed to take it better, although she did call me a fucking asshole. And Spike, well she just about scared the shit out of me. She basically threatened to kill my parents and my siblings and any other relatives in the area. It would have been much more upsetting if I wasn't on Cloud Nine about the whole Carly situation.
I got to Carly's place by about 1PM. I actually had to gather myself outside her door before I could work up the nerve to knock. She let me in and before she could say a word, I dropped to a knee and whipped out the ring box. I didn't want to lose my nerve, so I asked her to get engaged right then and there. She started crying, and not the good kind of crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She opened the closet door and out came Annie, Jane and Spike to ambush me.
This was pretty much worse than any nightmare I could think of.
"I can't believe you, you stupid fucker!" Carly screamed, "you play all four of us like fools and then you have the nerve to ask me to marry you." She slapped me in the face.
"Please, let me explain " I tried.
Before I could finish, Spike stepped in front of me. The last thing I remember seeing was her gloved fist nailing me right between the eyes.
When I woke up, the only thing in my field of vision was the sun, a big yellow ball partially blinding me like in those old western movies. My head was still rattling around like five hangovers at once. I felt detached from my body. I was finally able to raise my head and look around. I was lying down on the ground. There was someone lying down next to me, though I didn't know whom. She was dressed pretty provocatively. She had on shiny white tights and some red velvet dress with some Santa suit white trim on the end of the skirt, which stopped at an Ally McBeal length. She seemed to be trying to get up at the same time I was.
We both successfully got to our feet. I felt very wobbly and could barely stand for some reason. Her hair was in my face. I tried to get the hair out of my eyes, but my fingers were not responding. Spike must have walloped me good. Then I noticed that the reason my fingers had no sensation is because both my hands had been balled into fists and taped over with shiny red duct tape.
That's when I also noticed that my sleeves were covered with the same red velvet material as the girl wearing the dress. There was more furry white trim around the wrists and I could feel wrapped around both fingers some thread that attached to the sleeves at the wrists and effectively kept the sleeves from being pulled up my arms. I also noticed on my left wrist a tennis bracelet remarkably similar to the one I had just given Annie.
Getting over the shock of that, I scanned the rest of my body and came to the startling realization that the girl I saw was not next to me. She was me! I had been dressed as some kind of erotic Mrs. Claus. The red velvet dress was also actually a bodysuit of some kind, which zipped up in the back and completed the furry white trim motif with some that surrounded my entire neck. The blond hair that was in my eyes was attached to my head. My eyes scanned down the front of the dress to find two boobs poking out from the red material of the dress. Between those two boobs, I could see a gold necklace much like the one I gave to Jane. I looked further down at my shiny, nylon clad legs to find my feet forced into these extreme red suede, 3-inch pumps with ankle straps and pointed toes. That would have explained the trouble I had balancing myself.
What the hell was going on? I took stock of my surroundings and realized that I was in the middle of the desert. The only things in sight over the entire horizon were cacti and sand. I spotted a red purse on the ground beside me. Without the use of my fingers, it was quite difficult to get the thing open, but I finally did. I dumped the contents out onto the ground.
Out of the purse came a small mirror, some lipstick and eyeshadow, a package of photos and a mini-tape recorder. I glanced into the mirror. My reflection looked like a completely different person. My face was heavily made-up, and it was obvious that they had tweezed my eyebrows quite a bit. I also noticed that my ears had been pierced and that I was wearing Carly's diamond studs. This was getting worse all the time.
I used my fists to pick up the tape recorder and saw that it had a note attached which said: "Play me while you look at the pictures." I somehow managed to press the play button. I heard Carly's voice first.
"I suppose you're wondering what the hell happened," she began, "but it might be helpful if you look at some of the pictures as we speak."
I fumbled around for the package of photos. I luckily found a part on my right fist that was adhesive side out and used it to pick out the photos and start looking. The first one was of me, passed out on the ground at Carly's place, with the four girls standing over me like prized game hunters. Spike even had her foot over my chest. The pictures got progressively worse. They showed the process of stripping my clothes off, shaving my entire body and head, and getting me dressed in my current predicament. The tape continued.
"As you can see, we've made you into Santa's Little Helper. You must think we're all pretty stupid. Guess you didn't know that we all knew each other. As it turns out, Annie, Jane and Spike came by my place this morning when their boyfriends all decided coincidentally to break up with them at almost the same time. Didn't take long before we figured out your extracurricular activities." Carly explained.
"You can probably see from the pictures, but we also wanted to explain the extent of your predicament," she continued, "of course, you'll notice the dress covers you from neck to mid-thigh with a built-in body suit which makes the sheer white tights impossible to take off. The zip on the back of the dress is locked on at the neck. Not that you could get to that stuff anyway since we took the liberty of taping your hands up. And you can't see the bright shade of red polish we painted on your fingers and toes."
"We also glued the wig on your head and glued a little Santa hat on that." Spike continued. I reached up with my fist and took notice of the hat.
"And we did your make-up as conservatively as possible. We sprayed a little sealant over it so it stays even while you're sweating," Annie chimed in.
"I'm sure you've noticed the shoes. Aside from being damn cute and probably a size too small for you, they have locking ankle straps. We don't want you running for help too quickly. Not before you learned your lesson." Jane said.
"But the best part is all the stuff you can't even see." Carly picked up again, "you see, I picked up some stuff from my father's experimental labs. You may have noticed your new twin peaks? They're made of a new latex designed to replicate skin. They warm up to your body temperature. Most importantly, we were able to attach them with an adhesive designed to last for months at a time and were able to make them look seamless with your chest. But the coup de grace is something you'll find south of the equator. Or if you don't at least the lucky fella who peels you out of that dress will."
At that moment, I reach my right fist down to my crotch area. The bulge is noticeably missing. I really started to panic.
"It's my dad's latest innovation for transsexuals. It's a false pussy. Your penis slips into a hidden sheath but still pokes through a pee hole, so you can still pee sitting down. And it even has a pocket to take in a well endowed man, just like a real one. In case you need to barter your body in exchange for a ride home. We did drop you pretty far into the desert." Carly said while I heard the others laughing out loud, "we attached that with the same adhesive."
"And as a final reminder of our times together, we left you with our mementos." Carly finished, "Notice the earrings?"
"I gave my bracelet back," Annie cut in.
"And I gave you the necklace. It looks better on you anyway," Jane giggled.
"And that just leaves my present. You'll find it under your furry collar." Spike said.
I reached under my collar as best I could. I couldn't really see, but I was wearing some other red thing around my neck.
"I locked my red collar around your neck. By the by, the keys to the locks for the collar, dress and shoes are taped to your stomach underneath the dress. Good luck getting to them." she continued. That was the last straw. I couldn't take another minute of this.
"You fucking bitches!" I screamed.
Suddenly, I felt an electrical shock that started at my neck and ran through my whole body. I collapsed in a heap on the ground and was unable to move for a few seconds until the shock stopped.
"Oh, and one last thing," Carly said, "we attached a little electroshock transmitter to your new red collar, honey. It's sound activated, but it's programmed to only go off for sounds at lower octaves. Namely your regular voice. So if you plan on communicating with anyone, you'll have to do it at a much higher octave. And if anyone tries to tamper with the collar without the right key, well, let's just say that I hope you're sitting down."
"Bye!" all four signed off in unison as the tape stopped.
I looked up at the sky. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew the sun was starting to go down. And if I got stuck out here without any light, I'd be in big trouble. So I started walking. About five steps in, my feet starting killing me. I tried to slip my feet out of the shoes, but the straps held me in securely. I tore at the hat and hair, also to no avail.
I found that short, mincing steps were the best way to avoid pain throughout my body, but it also meant my walking pace was exceptionally slow. I also found myself more than a little aroused by the effect that the velvet dress and the tights had on me as I walked and my thighs were forced together.
What felt like an eternity later, I finally reached a two-lane road that was barely paved. The sun was about to go down. I started walking alongside the road hoping beyond hope that a car might come along. I was about to give up all hope when I saw an old car chugging along.
The car finally approached, going no faster than 25 MPH. It was an old Trans Am. By the time he got next to me, I was frantically waving my arms in the air and jumping up and down as best as possible in those shoes. I was still to afraid to use my voice after the last experience with the neck collar. The car pulled over to the side. The driver reached over and opened the passenger side door. He looked like the Bandit, 20 years and 40 pounds too late.
"Well, now, miss, what are you doing way out here?" he asked.
I had no choice but to try and speak. I put on my best falsetto.
"Actually, some friends of mine played a little prank on me." I began.
Thank God. No shock from the collar.
"Can you give me a ride into town?" I inquired.
"There is no town. Just houses here or there. The nearest town is probably a good 50 or 60 miles away. But I live near here. I could give you a lift there and let you use my phone. Would that help?" he asked.
"That would be great." I replied and climbed into his car.
We started driving. His name was Wally. He'd lived in the area his entire life. Apparently, he was a big Hank Williams fan, because that's what we listened to the entire time.
"So, your friends have been playing a prank on you, huh? Seems pretty elaborate to me." he said as he looked me up from my shoes to my chest leeringly. I was starting to get a little nervous. I decided it would be best to come completely clean.
"Listen, Wally, I have to be honest with you. I'm not what I seem." I chirped in my forced chipmunk voice.
"Whoa, before, you say another word " he started.
Suddenly he reached over and stuck a medical needle into my thigh. Before I could scream or protest, he had plunged the contents of the needle into me. I almost immediately started to lose consciousness.
"Just relax, honey. This is gonna put you out for awhile, until I can get you home." I heard those last words before I trailed off.
When I woke up, I saw that I was in a bedroom. I tried to move but couldn't. My hands were tied spreadeagle to the bedposts. Wally had at least taken the tape off my hands. The girls were right. My fingernails were painted the same bright red shade as the dress and shoes. My feet were tied together and tied off on the other end of the bed. I was startled by my new predicament and tried to yell in my regular voice.
Big mistake. First, all that came out was a muffled sound because some kind of ball gag had been shoved into my mouth. Also, that lower octave triggered the collar and sent an electric shock that sent my body into a convulsion for a few seconds. Wally probably hadn't even seen the collar underneath the dress. But now I even had to plead through the gag with a falsetto voice.
My bonds were very secure. Wally finally wandered into the room and sat down on the bed beside me. He started stroking my wig hair. I was pleading with high pitched grunts through the gag.
"Relax, sweetheart. You're fine now. Just had to knock you out to make sure I got you home okay." he tried to be soothing.
I continued to plead through the gag. He finally relented and started to unbuckle it.
"Okay, we can take the gag off for a little while. But I'm telling you," he warned, "we are literally miles away from any other living thing, so screaming will do you no good."
He took the gag off. It was quite a relief to my jaw.
"Please," I started in my chipmunk voice, "I'm not what you think. I'm a man."
Wally thought that was pretty funny.
"Is that right? Well, what a coincidence. So am I." he laughed
"No, really," I continued, "I have to talk in this high voice because my friends put this electro-shock collar on me. And my body is covered with fake latex mmppph" Before I could go on, Wally shoved the ball gag back into my mouth and rebuckled the strap.
"I think the sedative I gave you is effecting your brain. So rest up, and we'll see you in the morning." he said calmly as he got up and walked out of the room.
There I was. Tied to a bed in some sicko's house in the middle of nowhere, talking like a LA bimbo and dressed like Santa's little hooker with the fake body to match. I tried my bonds again unsuccessfully. After a few hours of struggling, I finally fell asleep.
I was awoken by the weight of Wally's body straddling mine. I was shocked to see him on top of me, fondling my fake breasts.
"You know, sweetie, I don't even know your name," he said. He was stroking my nylon covered legs up and down.
"Not that it matters," he continued, "I'm sure you'll be relieved to hear that this is not your final destination."
I had run through some best and worst case scenarios in my head as I laid bound to the bed. Even the best case scenario involved him letting me go only after he had his way with me. I just wanted to get it over with.
"No, sir," Wally said, "we got to freshen you up and get you ready for auction."
Auction!? What the hell was he talking about? Before my mind could race through the myriad of possibilities, he started to untie my hands. I rubbed my wrists and tried to get full circulation back into my fingers. Wally had a gun pointed at me.
"Now untie yourself. And nothing funny. We got get you into the shower and dressed. We got a long car ride ahead of us." I reached to undo the gag first, but found that it was padlocked on.
"Sorry about that, baby," he said, "I just didn't want to listen to anymore of your cockamamie delusions."
"Cause either I'm crazy," he continued as he reached under my skirt and felt the furry mound that hid my true identity, "or this is the weirdest penis I ever felt."
I untied my legs. I struggled to get the shoes or the dress off, but with no luck. He finally noticed that the dress and shoes were locked on.
"Boy, you got some real kinky friends." he declared before whipping out a pocket knife and working on the locks to the shoes. He got those off. I had to rub the feeling back into my feet and toes. It was quite a relief. He started in on the back on my dress. He got the zipper down, and I took the dress off.
I was shocked to look at my body underneath. We both were. It looked so real. I took the tights off to see my mound for the first time.
"Naughty girl. No bra or underwear, huh? I like that." Wally declared.
I was still in shock and took a moment to fondle my breasts. They even felt real. And there was no way to tell that the boobs or the pussy were not a natural part of my anatomy. The girls had really done a number on me. He snatched the tape off my stomach and found all the keys. Wally then worked on taking my hat off but found it was glued securely to my hair.
"These friends of yours seem like serious bitches," he said as he grabbed a huge shower cap and placed my hair (hat and all) underneath it, "the collar is a nice touch."
He grabbed me by the arm and led me to the shower. I stepped in and he tossed me some soap. I started to wash my new body. It was a very odd experience. When I washed the breasts, it almost felt like they were a part of me. And since I couldn't resist, I reached down into my new pubic area and felt the pocket that Carly had referred to. I got my whole finger up there. And the way the pocket was situated (right up against my sheathed penis) it caused some real stimulation for me. It also caused a panic. This fake pussy was completely realistic.
Wally shut the water off and helped me out of the shower. I was disgusted as he chose to towel me off all over my chest and crotch. He handed me a pink silk robe.
"Hon, I haven't finished cleaning your outfit yet. In the meanwhile, why don't we freshen up your make-up," he said as he pulled out a large make-up kit. I looked into the bathroom mirror and saw that my make-up job had not even smeared let along washed off. The sealant was apparently waterproof. Wally noticed, too.
"Wow, you're very low maintenance. Sit tight." said Wally. He laid me on my stomach and tied me into a tight hogtie, where my wrists were practically parting my ankles.
A half hour later, my outfit was ready. I put on the white tights first. Then, the dress went on. Wally was "kind" enough to zip me up and lock me in. He squeezed the shoes onto my feet and locked the ankle straps. He combed my hair around the Santa hat. I was now ready for whatever was next.
It wouldn't take long to find out. Wally pulled out a huge trunk and opened the lid. He pulled out a flat wooden board that fit perfectly inside the trunk. The board had five padded holes in it, one large one on the end and another two pair that were side by side. He opened some latches near each set of holes.
I realized what it was when he grabbed my head and forced it into the half circle of the largest hole and brought the other piece down and latched it shut, thereby trapping my head. He did the same with my wrists and ankles. I was in a full board version of the stocks. Wally lifted the board and my whole body was lifted. He positioned my body into the trunk and laid the board down. There was a ridge surrounding the lip of the opening of the trunk where the board fit and rested, holding my torso up, and leaving my head, hands and feet exposed at the top of the trunk. I struggled, but it was useless. My body wasn't even touching the bottom of the trunk, so it was impossible to muster any leverage. Wally pulled out another syringe and gave me a shot through the top of my foot. I started to fade just as he wished me pleasant dreams and shut and locked the lid of the trunk over my head.
I woke up to the sight of Wally and another man. The lid of the trunk was flipped open but I was still in the stock contraption. I could see that I was in the back of a van and that the two men were getting ready to move me out of there. Wally checked my eyes and then shut the lid again. I could feel the trunk being carried out of the back of the van.
When the lid opened again, I was inside some area that seemed like the backstage of a theatre. There were many make-up tables and dressing areas. There was lots of activity among the people there. I saw many girls, scantily clad, many with tears in their eyes, gagged and handcuffed to chairs, getting make-up touched up.
Wally lifted my stocks out of the trunk and unlocked my arms and legs and head. He then handcuffed my wrists behind my back. I could see a big curtain area that led out to some kind of main stage. And I could hear loud applause from the stage area. I wondered what the hell was going on out there. I wouldn't have to wait long.
Wally forced me to the opening in the curtain that led out to the main
stage. He uncuffed me for a moment and recuffed my arms above my head to some track that led out to the stage area. It was just high enough to match my height walking in heels. The track started to move, and I was forced to walk out on the stage. I saw a most incredible site. There must have been a few hundred people out there. All seemed very well-dressed and high society, yet many of them were whooping and hollering as if at a frat party."And now, the next lot, Lot #3033, Santa's Little Helper." a voice boomed over the PA.
At that moment, the mechanized track moved, forcing me to take a catwalk path down the stage and back. At certain points, the track even forced me to twirl around, drawing even more catcalls from the audience. I was just trying to stay up on my feet in those shoes. The track led me back around and through the curtain area back into the backstage area. I could hear a voice over the PA start the bidding on me.
"For this nice little package from Santa, let's start the bidding at $15,000."
I could not hear the rest of the bidding process as I was uncuffed from the track. Wally led me back to a chair at one of the make-up tables.
"Just sit tight," he said, "we'll know where you're heading in a minute." I made eye contact with Wally and pleaded for him to take the gag off. He seemed to read my facial language and unlocked the ball gag. This was my final shot at freedom. I knew it had to be good.
"I'm not a " I began in my regular voice, but was cut off by a severe electrical shock from the collar. It must have been getting increasingly sensitive with each use. The shock made me pass out. It's the last thing I remember.
I woke up and found myself in a different bedroom. This room was huge and beautifully decorated with impressive furniture, including the bed with all brass head and foot boards that I was laying in. I noticed that yet again my arms were tied to the headboard and my feet were tied off at the foot of the bed. Except I was no longer in the Mrs. Claus outfit. I was now in a full- sleeve, satin French maid outfit, full with white petticoats pushing the skirt out and wrist cuffs adorning both hands. My legs were in shiny black tights and forced into fancy black pumps that had a familiar looking lock at the ankle straps. I couldn't see my head, but they had apparently gotten the Santa hat off somehow and replaced it with a matching linen maid's cap. I was also gagged again, except this one seemed to take on a phallic shape which filled my mouth almost to the back of my throat, making any sounds nearly impossible. Since the dress was fairly low cut, I also noticed that Spike's red collar was missing. In its place was a thick black choker. If I could just get someone to take this gag off, I could explain the situation in my regular voice.
A man noticed that I had awaken and came and sat on the bed next to me. He was an older gentlemen, impeccably dressed.
"Dear, you're finally awake," he began, "now we can begin your training."
I mewed the best I could through the penis gag.
"You want to speak? I suppose that would be alright, since this is your first day at the farm." He unstrapped the penis gag, and I immediately gasped for air. After I caught my breath, I started to speak.
"Listen to me, you must understand, I'm not a wo " my voice trailed off as I realized that I really sounded like a girl without trying, "what happened to my voice!"
"Yes, my dear, we fixed that up. I don't know what unspeakable things your previous owner did to you and your voice, particularly with that barbaric electrical collar, but our surgeons worked on your larynx and you have nothing left to worry about. Your voice is back to its normal octave." he said warmly.
"No! That was my normal voice. I'm a man! I don't belong here. Get me out of these clothes!" I screamed in a high-pitched frenzy.
"Oh, dear, your past owner did warn that you were prone to delusions," he began and then pressed a small remote device in his hand. I suddenly felt an intense buzzing in my ass and in my fake pussy, causing my whole lower body to convulse.
"We've installed a remote controlled butt plug and dildo as part of your training. And we're starting drug and hypnotic therapy immediately. Don't worry, dear, we'll turn you back into a woman in no time, and you can get on with serving a master the way you should."
With that, he restrapped the penis gag into my mouth despite the protests and got out a syringe that he plunged into my arm. The drug started working quickly as I lost conscious. I barely had a chance to thrash around. My last thoughts were to the four girls that had done this to me. This revenge must have been beyond their wildest dreams.
It didn't look like I was making it home or anywhere else for Christmas.
THE END
© 2000
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