The Twelve Days of Christmas - Day 6

The Twelve Days of Christmas By Tiffany B. Quinn I take off the topaz necklace and set it on my nightstand. I am positive that there is a very slight glow emanating from the stone after I turn off the light.

Saturday Dec 31, Day 6

Being Saturday and New Years Eve I have a double reason to stay in bed this morning so I take advantage of the opportunity and don’t start moving until the decadent hour of eight o’clock.

Before rolling out of bed, I lay looking up at the ceiling trying to decide whether to think about all the things I need to get done today or about the deeper meaning of everything that has transpired in the last week. I am also fearing what new joys I am waking up to this morning.

Eventually, a coordinated assault by my bladder and stomach move me from my warm bed.

I don’t see a note in the bathroom as I take care of urgent needs. There is no doubt in my mind that a note exists somewhere in the house this morning. I wonder where it will be today?

As I wash my hands I look at myself again in the mirror. All the changes that I noticed last night seem slightly accentuated. The most obvious being that my hair is now almost to the middle of my back. Brushing out last night’s braid proves to take some time but it is not as bad the mess that I've had to deal with the last few mornings.

I am happy to see that I am still all male where it counts. That is reassuring, but I suspect that changes will occur there before the end of next week.

I wander down to kitchen for another light breakfast. I settle for dry whole wheat toast and coffee and find that the meager meal is sufficient.

There is no note in the kitchen either.

Surprisingly, a cursory search of the rest of the house does not turn up a note.

Anita sends a text on our group conversation asking about today’s gifts. I respond to the group that it appears that today is a bye since I haven’t found a note yet. The three ladies all express disappointment and strongly suggest that I send them the details when I do find something. They are all convinced that a note will show up at some point today.

Thinking of my to-do list, I head up to shower and to get ready for the day.

Today will be a cleaning day. I also need to stop by the liquor and grocery stores to stock up on beer and other treats for Monday’s party. Remembering tonight's New Years gathering at Jake and Sarah's house, I add finger foods to my shopping list.

After showering, I return to my room to find, sitting in the middle of my bed, a package with a note by it. On top of the package is a box of condoms. Mom was here while I was in the shower. I can't say that I am surprised by the intrusion.

The package label declares itself to be a four pack of “Womens Cotton Boxer Briefs Boy Shorts Panties with a 4.5” inseam”. I can see the four pastel colors through the wrapping: baby blue, light green, pink and orange (probably peach).

I pick up the note, curious to see what mom has to say about this morning’s gifts.

Dearest Karl,

As you have already concluded, you are indeed transforming into a female. There is a reason for this. It will all come clear on the day of Epiphany. You will still be a functioning male for a few more days, so if you want to have one last sexual fling as a male, I suggest that you get to it. Maybe you can talk one of your new single girl friends into some casual sex. I can understand if they aren’t interested, but women have sexual needs too and both of them have been alone for some time now. Just be sure to use the condoms when you do have sex. Pregnancy is best reserved for a committed relationship where the child can be raised by loving parents.

Anyway, you are probably wondering about the women’s underwear. These are the most masculine panties that I could find to help you with your transformation. They should be comfortable enough, even with your male equipment, and not look overtly feminine.

As you may have noticed, your father hasn’t been helping with the feminine aspect of your changes. Men are so nervous about all things feminine. Regardless, he sends his love and fully supports what is happening.

Know that we both love you dearly,

Mom

There is no way that I will send this note to the ladies! However, knowing that they will never forgive me if I don’t say something, I text them that a note and gifts appeared in my room while I was showering. I confirm that mom admitted to my feminization and told me that I would be female by the end of the week. I send a picture of the package of underwear with the text.

Jane: Where’s the note?

Me: I am not sending it. 2 personal.

Joanna: Girl friends share everything with each other.

Anita: That’s right girl friend (soon 2 be). We are here for you. Send the note.

Me: R U sure? You will probably be sorry.

I get a resounding Yes back from all three.

Me: You asked for it. And to be clear, I am not propositioning anyone here. Mom is.

I text them all a picture of the note. While I wait for replies, I start getting dressed for the day.

A quick peek in my underwear drawer shows that my male boxers gone. No real surprise there. Sighing, I decide that the feminine boxers are the only option, short of going commando, for now and slip on the baby blue pair.

The lady boxers don’t fit too well, they are loose around my butt and snug around the waist, but they are not uncomfortable. They are very stretchy and conform reasonably well to what shape that I do have. The only real issue is the lack of an opening up front. I will have to take them down to urinate. I suppose that that will be a fact of life soon anyway.

Pulling on some old comfortable jeans (now somewhat too big since I lost so much weight this week) and a sweatshirt, I start into a thorough cleaning of the house.

I remember to take my selfies before starting the housework.

----<0>----

By noon, the entire house has been vacuumed, the sheets on my bed are changed, the floors without carpet have been mopped, the kitchen cleaned, the house dusted.

While in the master bedroom, I checked for new gifts. Sure enough, my mother’s old underwear drawer has a generous supply of brand new women’s panties in various styles, fabrics, colors, and patterns, all neatly folded and arranged according to some system that I can't quite figure out. The appearance of feminine underwear in mom's drawer is not really a surprise as I was sort of expecting to find it after the gift of underwear I received earlier.

I still haven’t heard anything back from the ladies. They are, strangely, being quiet about today's note.

There are two major bowl games on this afternoon. Both games are semi-finals for the college football national championship with the winners going to the championship game on January ninth. I finish my house cleaning before the first game between Michigan and TCU begins. Strangely, once I am settled in to watch the game, I find that I not as captivated by the contest as I would have expected and use the time to neatly fold my laundry while absently watching the game.

At half time I decide to make a quick trip to the store to finish my shopping for Monday's party. I run up against a problem when I try to hide the length of my ponytail under my winter coat. It turns out that wearing a pony tail under your coat is not exactly comfortable. The coat pulls at the hair as I move around. I am tempted to let my hair hang outside my coat, but I am more willing to live with the discomfort than show my glorious hair to the world.

While busy in the house, I have ignored the weather outside. As I pull out of the garage, I find that it is lightly snowing again. There is already a new inch of the stuff on the ground. The weather report on the car radio says to expect another inch before the storm passes later today. Not a lot of snow, but enough to mess up traffic.

What is it with people that makes them turn into idiots (more than usual) behind the wheel when there is a little snow on the road?

The stores are crowded with seemingly the whole town getting supplies for tonight’s festivities.

I had notified my original football party guests that our gathering was going to be coed and that they were welcome to bring a plus one with them. Surprisingly, all of them had welcomed the change and are bringing dates. The party is going to be crowded and I need plenty of supplies. The car is well loaded with numerous bags of assorted chips, a couple of vegetable trays, dips, and a variety of non-alcoholic drinks as I head to the liquor store. I ask the female clerk about beers that might appeal to my women guests and end up buying a couple of cases of a French beer described as being “light but super flavorful, fruity, very refreshing and easy to drink”. The clerk assures me that the ladies will love it. Of course, I don’t neglect getting a variety of our more traditional beers for the guys.

----<0>----

I am in the middle of my shopping when I next hear from the ladies. I was beginning to think that they had all run for the hills after reading mom’s note.

Joanna’s text simply asks: Karl, are you going to Sarah and Jakes’ party tonight?

I reply in the affirmative.

Joanna: I will see you there.

Jane: You 2 enjoy yourselves.

Anita: I will come tomorrow afternoon to help you prepare for Monday's party.

I breathe a sigh of relief. It seems that they were not offended by mom’s note and are just ignoring the sex part. I am okay with that, even though part of me finds the thought of a romp in bed appealing. It would be a good way to spend the rest of the weekend. This weekend is also likely to be the last time I can enjoy such pleasures as a man.

Soon after I get home the snow lets up, so I spend time clearing off the drive and walkways at my house and my neighbors. I end up missing most of the first quarter of the Georgia vs. Ohio State game.

----<0>----

“Why are you wearing a wig?” Sarah asks me in confusion when she greets me at the door.

I realize that I haven’t kept her and Jake in the loop this week. My now really long low ponytail is very obvious.

“It is not a wig,” I assure her, “And it is a long story.”

“It certainly looks long,” she quips. “There is no way that you could have grown it out that long in a week. And what has happened to your voice?”

We are interrupted by the arrival of another guest.

“I will tell you about it later,” I promise her.

About ten minutes later I run into Jake who has been off finishing up some party preparations.

“What’s with the hair, man?” Jake curiously asks as he welcomes me to the party. “And have you been losing weight? You look different, dude.”

“It been a really strange week,” I tell him.

“Oh wow,” Jake exclaims, “What happened to your voice?”

I just sigh. I suspect that everyone is curious.

Joanna chooses this moment to appear from the kitchen where she has been helping Sarah with the snacks. She is dressed to the nines, looking hot in a rather short cocktail dress. I look pretty casual by comparison, wearing nice slacks and a shirt that hangs loosely on my shoulders.

“Karl has been having an experience with the supernatural this week,” she tells Jake in a voice loud enough for all present to hear.

The conversations around us suddenly stop.

Joanna continues, looking at me with a grin on her face. “His mother has been writing him notes from the grave every day. She has also been slowly making some changes in his life. She says that the changes will continue over the twelve days of Christmas. The hair is only one of the changes, but it is phenomenal. What you see has all grown out this week. If you look at him closely, you will notice other changes. According to his mother’s notes, he should be a she by this time next week.”

“Thanks, Joanna,” I reply sarcastically as I blush a bright red.

“Show them the pictures,” Joanna encourages me.

Her announcement starts a round of very embarrassing questions. In the end I relate the whole story, leaving out mom’s suggestions from today’s notes. I do end up having to pull out my phone to show the pictures of the notes and gifts from the week. I delete the pictures of today’s note and gifts before passing my phone around for people to see.

“So, Karl,” Jake asks, “is this why Monday’s party coed?”

“Partly,” I admit. “Also, I’ve been spending time with Joanna and Anita this week and they wanted to come. They’ve been a big help assisting me with dealing with mom’s shenanigans.”

The responses to the announcement are interesting. There is a faction that is intrigued and wants to know the details of the transition. Others give me some distance, maybe afraid that it is contagious. Others aren’t convinced that this is a supernatural experience. This group seems convinced that I am transitioning with hormones and that I will be getting surgery this week.

The supernaturalists point out that there is no way that I could have grown this hair in a week by either natural or chemical means. Several women take a close look at my scalp and confirm that it is all my own hair and not hair extensions. My now feminine voice is also held up as evidence of the supernatural. Several people are forward enough to feel my throat to confirm the loss of my Adam’s apple.

People start to look closer. My closest friends notice that my face has changed and that I seem to have lost a significant amount of weight. Someone notices the looseness of my shirt collar and how my shoulders no longer fill out the shirt. I sort of look like a girl wearing her boyfriend’s shirt except that I don’t have any of the curves of a woman.

After about an hour of being the main event, people start to wander off for other discussions. I am a little surprised at how fast the novelty seems to wear off.

Once the crowd dissipates, Joanna comes up to me and whispers in my ear, “Are you wearing your boy short panties?”

I roll my eyes, “As if I have a choice.”

“This I have to see,” she says with a gleam in her eye. “Mind if I sleep over at your house tonight, big guy?”

I am gob smacked and don’t know what to say.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asks seductively.

Rebooting my brain, I reply as nonchalantly as possible when shaken to the core, “Sure, there’s plenty of room and I will show you mine if you show me yours.”

“It’s a date,” she grins back at me before wandering off to visit with some other guests, leaving me in shock. I really thought that mom’s suggestion was asking too much of my friends.

Before I can really process what just happened, an old school friend of mine, John, approaches me, “You look like you just been broadsided, buddy. What did she say?”

“It was nothing,” I replied shaking off my shock. “She is just trying to shake me up.”

“It looks like she succeeded,” John laughs, “So tell me more about this transition.”

John and I chat for a while with him asking all sorts of questions about my transition and how I feel about it, some of which I haven’t suitably addressed myself yet. It is only after he moves on to another conversation that I remember that John went into Journalism in college and now works for the local weekly paper, such that it is. I hope that my transition doesn’t make the local gossip column. Both of their subscribers might actually read the article.

----<0>----

It is a couple of minutes to midnight when Joanna appears next to me and slips her arm through mine.

“Are you ready for some fireworks, stud,” she seductively whispers in my ear. “I’m really looking forward to helping you celebrate the end of your manhood. How about we slip out of here after the midnight hoopla? You head out first and I will follow about 10 minutes later.”

My response is interrupted by everyone counting down to the beginning of the New Year.

When the countdown concludes everyone grabs the nearest member of the opposite gender for a kiss. Joanna about sucks my lungs out as her tongue finds its way into my mouth. Her hand also finds its way to my crotch where she gives my hardened manhood a squeeze.

“There’s more where that came from,” she grins a hungry grin before wandering off leaving me to conceal an uncomfortable bulge in my trousers.

I wait until the first guests start to leave before making my excuses and head for the door.

“Hey Karl,” Jake says as he shakes my hand, “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk.” He has been busy taking care of the dozen or so guests all evening. “This transition stuff really sucks. Maybe we should talk about this more at your party on Monday.”

“Will do,” I tell him, “I really need to talk about all this with a guy for a change.”

I walk out the door to what promises to be an interesting second half of the night.