Kathy's Christmas Carol, Part 3
By Merz
Kathy Encounters the Future - and Beyond


Upon emerging from the short doze I tossed off my blanket and stood to face
the Future dressed in my screaming red Lycra mini- dress with the scoop neck
and thin straps. Time had been treating me rather badly all night so I meant
to move to the unknown showing color and tight lines. I had belted the dress
to further emphasize my narrow waist and wide, well developed shoulders. My
legs would speak for themselves, and quite eloquently, I thought. No earrings
this time, and the soggy bandage on my earlobe looked piteous. Dry hair or
gelled? The direction the future should or would take when it came to hair
styling baffled me. Short would always prove appropriate, I was sure, but
spiky or flat? For convenience I had retired the final time with my hair
combed but otherwise untreated. I could run my fingers through it to get it to
stand, after a fashion, if that seemed the appropriate look wherever I was
going next. I stepped into the pointy but sensible buckle pumps I had set
aside for this third jaunt and was ready for action.

The form before me was not the one I had expected. I had nerved myself for the
shrouded reaper Dickens described. Here was a rather short, dumpy, older
fellow in a brown tweed suit, fingering the dilapidated Homburg that should be
covering his balding head.

"Ah, there you are. Good of you to make the trip, but I wonder if we might
just skip this one. I understand the part about the future not being certain,
that it might still be altered if I mend my ways. Perhaps you could just jot
out a list of things for me to work on and I'll fit them into my calendar,
there's a good chap. Besides, I'm still mulling over the lessons from the
first two excursions as the bandaging on my ear might suggest. May I have some
assurance that you won't repeat the bad manners of those other two? I really
want to just get along and feel quite bad that they and I got off on the wrong
foot earlier this evening."

"God, they warned me you were the cheeky, gabby sort. Not a chance of your
missing any of this. I've got a pretty ugly mess to rub your nose in, missy,
but I trust we can avoid any violent confrontations this time out." He eyed me
up and down as he spoke, repeatedly counting nipples but coming up with two
each time, trying to burn a hole in the stretchy crotch of my dress with his
eyes, and seeking proof my legs did indeed go all the way up.

"Well at least take me to some spots where I can check out a variety of
clothing that real people will wear. Is there any hope I can be more visible
than I've been at the previous stops? I'm really quite proud of this
particular dress as a holiday statement."

"You would be arrested if anyone in authority saw arms like yours displayed in
such a lewd fashion. Or your legs. This future has benefited from several
years of morality and values since your sort held any sway. Let's get on with
it." He extended his hand and I accepted the invitation for another
disorienting ride through mist and maelstrom.

When we alit I recognized the White House in front of us. The Future started
toward the gate leading in but then froze in front of a large statue. Taking
his cue I joined him in staring at the thing, walking twice around. The Future
was making little gulping noises so I attempted conversation. "So she got it
done, did she? And nicely displayed don't you think? I admit it's a little
disconcerting to face ones bum above eye level, but she got the shape of my
glutes just right. Or are those Sylvia's?" The Future's expression was now
bug-eyed, his gulps had become pained wheezes. I circled the statue again.

"I do prefer this to that classic of Atlas holding up the earth. We two make
the job look less a torment, but that seems the way of it when women take on a
task. And the way muscle flows into muscle on the two bodies - see, you can
trace an unbroken line from here at the foot spiraling up her leg, into my
torso, diverging into both our arms and on up into the globe - is really quite
sensual. I would criticize Petra's decision to make Sylvia's face look no
older than mine. Anyone could tell you she's got donkey's years on me. And the
way the bodies merge here in the middle, my abs are obscured completely. I
think Petra made a poor artistic choice there. If the future really is subject
to alteration perhaps I'll phone her when I return and offer my advice."

The sensuality of the pose and the fantastic musculature made me want to
embrace it, rub my body against it, probe the clefts between the sinewy bodies
with their ripped muscles. I could easily imagine tourists snapping photos of
the statue, and girls and boys vying to replicate the powerful posture of the
stylized female forms, holding up the world. But it was winter and dawning
into a holiday. We had the place to ourselves.

At last the Future found his voice. "It's an abomination! This can't be here.
I've been encouraging the burning of Petra Murcek's studio myself, and the
driving of her family from their home. If the Present had done his job you
would have witnessed the rising indignation of feminine women and masculine
men against them, leading toward that day."

"If you relied on the locals to do the job I can practically guarantee they
would make a hash of it. The lot I met were lucky if they could rise to the
call for last rounds. So you find it erotic as well?"

The Future seemed quite confused by it all. He rubbed his eyes and looked
again at the statue, then pulled a small metallic gadget from his pocket and
began poking buttons on its face. "This is most disturbing. According to my
notes we should be visiting President Honeycutt as he signs legislation to
include breast enhancement surgery under national medical insurance coverage,
if a boyfriend or husband co-signs. Now I can't find Sydney Honeycutt even in
existence. And instead there is a tax credit for women hiring personal
trainers."

He punched more keys on his little device, his brow furrowing and beginning to
show beads of sweat. "And we were scheduled to stop by the opening of the
newest Marlowe's Slavegirl Market club where your clothing store once sat, but
here it shows there are no Slavegirl Markets in your town and not even any
Marlowe. While your shop not only still is in business but you have franchised
establishments in other states. With one opening in England and two in
Australia."

More key punching as his hands began trembling. "We aren't actually going to
see you, of course. One never lets a person see his or her own future self as
that would be giving away too much of the game, and you might be tempted to
tamper. You especially, from what I heard in my briefing. But we were going to
listen to policemen discuss your latest arrest for being uppity to men. This
one would have put you into the careerist category and landed you into
treatment for a good long stretch, at the pleasure of the male guards who are
trained to be instructive in female submissiveness. But this reading shows you
off in Brisbane for the opening of your franchise shop along with someone
named Betty, in time for the Christmas swimsuit specials. This Betty was
supposed to be in a sheltered workshop stringing beaded necklaces. And you're
being escorted by the Australian Minister of Physical Culture, Christine
Envall. Whoever that is."

He spun toward me. "You had something to do with this misalignment. I can
sense your influence at work here. You think you're so damn smart, dressing in
a way to excite and intimidate men. Let's see how you'll look when you reach
this period in your life." The Future did some hand waving in front of me and
I suddenly felt as if I were in an elevator rocketing to the top of a
skyscraper. My weight seemed to increase, my stomach did flip- flops, dull
pain crept up from my toes to the top of my head. "There. Now see if you want
that body to be seen in public."

To test my sense of abrupt weight gain I raised up an arm. I needed to follow
the unbroken line from the hand to my shoulder twice before I could believe it
was mine. This hand had what looked like a leopard's collection of liver spots
and the arm was covered in loose parchment that bore no resemblance to my
skin.

"I don't know what's happened, but we'll get to the bottom of it and get
things straightened out. Of that you can be sure." The Future had his gadget
out again and was starting to punch frantically at its controls.

"No, I don't believe that's what's going to happen."

The dowdy shape of the Future and I pivoted to stare at a tall, broad figure
approaching slowly across the street on gold sandals, a long coat so white it
seemed to glow hiding all features below the flat planes of a distinctly
African face. Clearly she was female, about six and a half feet tall with hair
cropped to a helmet of tight curls. She sauntered over to us, hands in her
pockets, eyes half- lidded and boring into my companion.

"Well, Clarence. So you saved the Future for yourself." Her voice was an icy
purr as she strolled over to us. "Let me guess: you boys played with the
timelines again. You put together one of your stupid-ass schemes to brainwash
another woman into the mold you wanted, hoping you could build a future of
weak willed, submissive, plastic women for all those cowardly men you cater
to. Not going to happen."

She stopped in front of the Future, who no longer seemed to be the Future at
all, just some fat slob named Clarence. "Did you want to read my palm to help
you see how events really turn out for this one and her friends, Clarence?"
Now she stood almost toe to toe with him, but she spoke down to the top of his
head as he nervously faced forward into the middle of her chest.

Slowly loosening the belt of her long coat she let it slip off her shoulders
and down her arms. The fabric moved like a rich liquid as it poured down and
began pooling around her feet. "Would you mind?" she asked with an eyebrow
cocked in my direction. I quickly stepped over and took the coat in my hands
as it poured all the way off.

She wore a shimmering gold leotard with a large oval cut out to show off an
abdomen that resembled hammered black metal. The leotard plunged in back to
her muscular lumbar region below a dramatically complicated landscape of sinew
rippling with her every movement. The skintight fabric matched her gleaming
sandals. I clutched the coat close to occupy my hands so they didn't follow
their instinct to start exploring the living sculpture before me. The fabric
felt silky, but thick without being heavy or stiff. If white chocolate fudge
could be made into a coat it would feel this smooth and rich. I rubbed it
against my cheek and imagined it was her thigh I was rubbing against.

She held up her palm in front of Clarence's face. Her massive arm bowled a
gleaming bicep toward her shoulder as her elbow bent. Clarence's nose was
against the flat of her hand. "Can you read anything there, Clarence? It's
pretty hard and callused, so maybe your future isn't very clear. Let me make
things plain."

She seized him by the scruff and lifted him right off the ground. She gave him
a shake before dropping to one knee and draping him across the opposite thigh.
Whack! Whack! Her broad, thick hand hitting his trousers sounded like
gunshots. Clarence arched and squirmed as if he was being jolted by
electricity. Five good swats and she stood up once more, gripping Clarence at
the shoulders and holding him so he had to stand on tiptoe to avoid dangling
from her fists. Tears were topping his eyes and starting down his pink cheeks.

"You been naughty again, you and your brothers. You went off walking among
folks again, and I hear you left marks on this one. No way she can pass this
off as a dream. This clothes layer feels like it cost you some to simulate.
You and I can start by getting rid of it." With a jerk she split his suit down
the middle. As it came off it looked like it was all of a piece, a single
garment made to appear like a three-piece suit from over half a century ago.

The one she called Clarence collapsed in a naked pink heap in front of her on
the shredded suit. "Please, Lenore, I can explain."

Paying him no further attention she turned to me. "Welcome to the future. Or
one version of it. This is the one you had a hand in making. Lady, I'm proud
to get to meet you face to face. You're what you'd call a role model for me -
you and a dozen other women over a lot of centuries that let me make myself in
this form. I do dig this body, don't you? Imagine being like Clarence and
choosing to be a tubby weakling. Makes no sense. Maybe we can think of a way I
can return the favor to you." She was looking over her physique, just as I
was. I was trying to argue myself out of my weight estimate of three hundred
pounds of muscle. Finally I surrendered myself to the math and began looking
for a means by which I could successfully surrender myself into those arms.

"I know how complicated it gets to talk about events or provide information
that might cause folks to behave differently than their timelines were meant
to go. So to start paying back without giving any specifics, girlfriend, just
let's say we have a proverb these days: if you're going to take a cue stick
that's painted white with a red tip like a blind person's cane, and shove it
clear up some bastard's ass and snap it off, you'd better be careful to wipe
your fingerprints off it first. All of them. Just a proverb, not that anyone
finds those old wives tales useful or practical. Still, you might find it
helpful advice one day but I won't mention any names." She gave me a slow wink
as she reached to accept her long white coat. "Otherwise you seem to have
pretty good instincts, lucky for all the sisters that have come along in the
last couple decades. Aside from that temper you might want to keep an eye on."
She stopped and looked into my face more closely.

"Shit, that bastard Clarence has been playing with you, hasn't he?" In a rage
she threw her immaculate white coat on the ground. "What'd he do, put the
years onto you? I'm really going to kick his ass this time. And his brothers.
Did he tell you twenty years worth? Bet he gave you at least thirty. Stand up
there. For a broad crowding eighty you look hot, mama," she told me with an
encouraging smile. Her liquid brown eyes weren't smiling.

She walked around me, looking me up and down. I did my best to stand straight,
shoulders back and head up - all that good posture business. She stopped in
front of me again and cupped her hand under my chin, lifting my face to meet
her gaze. I could feel how loose my cheeks were in her palm, feel gravity
dragging at all my skin, my breasts, my bottom, the very arches of my feet. I
fought to stand straighter and meet her gaze as her eyes bored into mine.

"Go like this," she directed and swung her free arm in a large circle. "Does
that hurt?"

I tried circling my arms up and over my head, wincing at the pain in my joints
as the movement seemed to be cracking through layers of abrasive rust. I
persisted until I could make a full circle, although I had to bite my lip to
get through the entire range of motion. "No problem," I gasped out to her.

"Oh, baby, that man is nasty as a snake. Look at you, all aching and wrinkled
up before your time. And your hair is coming in all white and thin. Clarence,
get your naked butt over here." Clarence came scuttling over on all fours,
practically whimpering as he cowered at her feet. I noticed there was no sign
of the clothing he had been curled upon.

"You think you did something pretty clever here, don't you? First, let me tell
you why this ain't the future you were expecting to show off. When you all
went tripping with this gal, hoping you'd scare her off of pumping pride into
strong women, you let her see a couple of gents she wasn't originally going to
have any contact with. Somewhere between then and now she took matters into
her hands with those old boys so their strings don't reach this far anymore.
I've been asked to whup on all three of you for trying to rearrange the
strings, and you know I'm going to. But you better also understand if any of
you even think about unraveling any of what's come about because of your
interfering you'll be talking to Someone a lot meaner than me. And you know
you can't hide anything from Her." She reached down and pinched his ear
between her thumb and forefinger knuckle, then one-handed him off the ground.

"You hear me?" She gave him a little shake and he shrieked a pained
affirmative as he fought to relieve his ear of some of his weight while he
dangled below her fist. He looked like a plump pink ham hanging there. "Second
thing: you three are going to respool all the strings that might have been
tangled and make notes of every event that has to be redone on account of your
prank. And I mean details right down to the leaves dropping off trees and
swallows falling from their nests. You still hearin' me? If you get through
that before your kind is as forgotten as those other dinosaurs that died out,
maybe we'll come up with something more to keep you busy. Now sit there quiet
till I'm done." Another shake and she again dropped him in a cringing heap.

She turned back to me and her face softened. "My sister, none of this was
meant to happen to you. Mostly we don't show ourselves at all and we sure
don't go messing with the physical parts of people we have to nudge along. I
can move all that calcium out your joints and back to the bones where it
belongs real quick. And he's messed up your hormone balance to suppress the
estrogen. I'll get things pumping right again and you'll see a little more
collagen under the skin. The skin's going to need a couple days to thicken and
get tightened up again like it was, but that's no problem either as long as
you stay away from folks who might ask about the beauty treatment that makes
it happen. The hair is tougher. That's all dead cells anyway and it's going to
come in white from now on, as best I can tell just looking. The color thing is
tied up with too many other changes to try rolling it back so it comes in red
again. But we oughta get it growing nice and thick even if the red's gone from
it. How does that sound?"

"As long as I can move without this aching, I don't care about the details." I
ran my fingers through my hair and looked in horror at the wad that came away,
a quarter inch of white showing at the

base of each strand. "The color looks about like what sneaks up on me before
each dye session, but it's always stayed where it belonged before, rooted. The
red always came from a bottle anyway. Before my red period I tried various
other shades. Perhaps after this I will just go with the snowy look instead.
Apart from the skin and the joints I don't feel that much different. Just
tired. Who are you people? Are you angels?"

"Momma, you aren't much different than you were. That Clarence could move the
calcium around, jumble up the hormones, but he can't put in anything new or
take anything away completely. Here, let me give you a big hug and start in
with those damn aches and pains. Nah, we're no angels, we're avatars. We call
ourselves zeitgeist - time ghosts, or spirits of the times. We're like the
focused reflection of what's going on with people along the strings of time.
We can watch what's going on and maybe try a little subtle influencing, like
rewards to folks doing the things we like and a little extra headwind to them
doing otherwise. We might show up like in dreams to drop some hints but
there's rules against anything from those dream visits hanging on into the
next morning. Mostly, though we're just reflections and shouldn't be actors in
how things evolve. That's why Clarence and his brothers are in trouble. You're
pushing a tide they don't like and they broke a lotta rules trying to stop
you."

Her enormous arms gathered me in and crushed me against her iron body, lifting
me a few feet above the ground. With my face cradled between her ample breasts
and her hand supporting my bottom I first thought I was feeling a normal wave
of lust and a desire to merge even more intimately with this impossible form.
Then I realized the spreading warmth had little to do with any emotion I have
felt before. It was as if a tanning lamp had been switched on inside of me,
bathing me in baking warmth from the inside out. I squirmed further into her
embrace, working my mouth as far over her breasts as I could reach, grinding
my crotch against her oaken midsection. I gasped as she purred gently,
beginning to rock and sway in an even more sensuous manner. My heart hammered
like a kettledrum, the reverberations ringing right through every fiber. I
struggled to free at least one arm so I could return this incredible embrace
and explore further over her body. Sweat beaded on my forehead, dripped down
my thighs. At every exhalation it seemed flames would pour out my mouth from
the inferno she was kindling and stoking within me.

"Oh, yeah, baby. You do know how to play along," the giantess laughed and set
me back on my feet. I wobbled a bit, trying to steady myself and catch my
breath. My pulse still hammered steadily and unhurriedly, but with such force
it made my entire body vibrate in response, as if my bloodstream were piano
wires resonating to a struck key. "How's that feel, mama? Now let me see you
swing those arms."

Staring up at her gleaming face I complied, delighted that the aches were
completely gone, the movement effortless and free. I breathed a deep sigh of
relief, then noted how snug my clinging little dress felt around my ribcage. I
looked down over myself and gasped.

"You like the new look? That'll pass, too, but for a couple days when you do
any exerting you're going to pump up better than any of these little old Mr.
Olympias ever dreamed of. It's just the blood filling up the muscle you
already have, but while your hormones rebalance and your skin is getting its
old elastic back you're going to find you can put on a real show for yourself.
Maybe you'll be a little bit stronger, because I pumped out a few toxins and
other crud that have built up, retuned the hormones. Maybe ten percent
stronger and quicker. But mostly you're just getting a temporary set of show
muscles. I got rid of your bruises, and that calcium Clarence moved to your
joints is back in the bones where it will do you some good. Do you like the
look? I can bend the rules a bit and alter the hormones permanent if you like,
let you keep the tote bag- muscle look. The way things are bubbling now, if
you do any weight lifting in the next day or two you might add a permanent
inch of muscle pretty easily."

My God, what had she done? I looked down and was first arrested by a deep
cleavage that only greets me when I go with the Wonderbra. Now I was braless,
but amazing mounds tented the top of my dress, pushing outward until my
nipples threatened to peek over the top. When I twitched a bit muscle fiber
like thick cables came to life in my chest, anchored in my ribcage and
burgeoning outward. Blood vessels began making lazy pulses just under the
skin. My arms ballooned enormously, and looked like carving knives had defined
each muscle group. I clenched my fists and saw a bundle of muscle like a tight
coil of rope come alive in each forearm.

The tiny Lycra dress stretched to accommodate my new dimensions, but the
fabric around my chest and thighs was so tight it looked painted on. My, my.
What would the men at the old gym think about this? Even the ones with more
mass than I was showing couldn't match my definition. I flexed a bicep, then
bounced it up and down by rotating my wrist. Grabbing the thin straps I peeled
the dress down to my waist and stood admiring an upper body that seemed about
to explode out of skin as thin as age-spotted tissue paper.

"You're sure this will pass? That I don't need to completely replace my
wardrobe?"

"Oh yeah, you'll get settled down again like you were before. You want to try
out the new shape while you got it? Looks like Clarence is getting an eyeful,
and likes what he sees. Maybe you'd like to let him sample the goods he's been
trying to keep off the shelves." Turning I saw that indeed the portly pink
image of the Future was trying to conceal an erection that would do proud a
man half his apparent age.

"I might have done, but despite being rather cavalier about many hazards
unprotected sex isn't one of them. Who knows where that thing has been, and
what it might plant in me."

She laughed. "Old Clarence doesn't use it, it's just for show. See, we aren't
real flesh and blood. You did notice those other two boys didn't do any
bleeding no matter what you did to them? It didn't occur to them they might
need to do that so they didn't bother copying any red stuff inside. This is
what they call ectoplasm that we can put in whatever form we want. It performs
pretty much like the stuff we're modeling on so we have the same reactions as
nerves would give us - like you found out when you went to work on Clarence's
two brothers. But we don't have cells or any of that sort of stuff - no jiz in
that poker he's sporting but otherwise it works the same. We study you folks
pretty close to mimic you the best we can, cause it takes some doing to change
into a different form. If you want him he's all yours, no strings attached."

"So you chose to look like a fat old slob when you might have, as it were,
made something of yourself?" I asked the cowering figure. I strode over to
look down at him, hands on my hips and proudly flaunting my pulsing muscles.
"You really need to get a little exercise, in case you meet someone more to
your style." As I said this I hitched up my skirt and slipped my hands down my
knickers, gripped the elastic waistband and curled my arms upward. My gaudy
biceps exploded as they shred the fractional garment. Now my pretty, practical
mini-dress was rolled more into a ruffle around my hips than proper apparel,
almost a tutu in its brevity.

I planted the toe of my shoe just in front of his nose and tensed the leg,
turning it side to side to highlight different muscle groups. "You like it?
You seemed pretty fascinated by my legs from the start. Do you think having
all the muscle fibers visible under the skin makes the leg more interesting or
less?" I flexed the calf and quads, entranced by the appearance of my own
flesh in its rippling massiveness. I stooped to grab Clarence under the
armpits and lift him up to sit on the base of the statue. At the effort my
entire body burst outward with strength and pulsing muscle.

Stepping in close I placed his engorged penis between my breasts and tensed
them. The pectorals expanded to grip him snugly. I twitched my chest slowly
and rhythmically, the muscles tugging at his manhood, enveloping it with
caressing power. He gasped. I increased my pace and he fell backward to lean
against what appeared to be Sylvia's vascular stone calf muscle. I sped up my
flexing again and watched the Future collapse in a heaving heap staring up
between the mixed legs of the statue. As my pectorals clutched him in a final
embrace he screamed to the heavens while I pulled away, extracting him from
his muscle fuck. His form seemed less distinct as he lay there, wheezing and
gasping.

"I don't think we need experiment with penetration if it's all the same to
you. That frankly is not the sort of physique that captures my attention. If
you know what I mean." I ran my hand down Lenore's massive arm and gazed up at
her face.

"You know that I do," she replied with an appreciative squeeze of my own
biceps. "But we gotta get you back home where you belong. Just slip your hands
up inside here and hold my tits." She pulled out the top of her leotard so I
could reach into the cut-out over her abdomen.

"But with Clarence and those other two I just held their hand."

Her deep, warm laugh flowed like syrup. "Yeah, that way works, too. But we
might as well use a little imagination and get some fun out of the journey.
Unless you don't wanna." I had her full, round breasts cupped in my hands
before she finished speaking. Her nipples jutted like wine corks against my
rubbing palms. "Oh, yeah. You know what you're doing up there. We might have
to take the long route getting you home, make this the scenic trip. Clarence,
I expect you'll be sitting right there when I get back, or it'll go even
harder on you. Spend some time studying the statue. Maybe you'll get a little
culture." Her large hands completely enclosed my own breasts and I tensed my
newly supersized pecs to thrust them more forcefully into her caressing grip.

The now-familiar vertigo felt multiplied as I kept my eyes locked on hers,
rather than trying to watch the horizon. With no visual reference point I felt
like we were tumbling crazily through time and space. At last she moved her
hands from my chest and down to my hips. I felt myself lifted effortlessly and
realized she was lying on her back in my bed with me now suspended above her.
With agonizing, deliberate slowness she lowered me down over her face and
stuck a tongue as hard as a thick steel chisel deep into my interior. I might
as well have been a marionette as she manipulated me up and down with her
irresistible arms while probing deeper and deeper into me with her tongue. She
did every bit of the work while I extracted every ounce of the pleasure from
the encounter. When I came I expected to see lightning bolts of ecstasy shoot
out of my head and hands.

After some motor control returned I did my best with my newly ballooned
muscles and old reliable tricks to reciprocate, and she was gracious in her
compliments for a job well done. At last she stood before me, her golden
leotard held now like a tiny hanky in her fist, and laid a heavy hand on my
shoulder. "Girlfriend, I'll give you a choice. You've seen more of us and
learned more of our doings than most mortals are allowed. I can arrange for
you to cross over and become one of us - be the fashion avatar or something.
You can't imagine what a hoot it is to exist outside the time stream. You can
go wherever and whenever you want, checking out all those threads of lives and
events spinning away. Most folks who find out about us just naturally worship
us like gods, and that's an ego trip, I can tell you. What do you say? Imagine
having strength even out of line with the size of all these gorgeous muscles
you're parading around. You're a firecracker now, but we get you powered up
and I bet you could really make me hit the rafters. For centuries."

"Tempting. Very tempting." I placed her palm on my chest over my heart,
flexing my left pec like a coconut under her hand. "But as I understand your
rules I'd just have to stand by and watch when stiletto heels start spreading
to the feet of more women instead of being able to fight back. And if I
encountered Hugh Hefner in a vulnerable moment I'd have to just let him waltz
off on his way, building an empire on silicone and mammary fat. No offense
intended, of course," and I gave her ripe left breast a kiss of appreciation.
"Besides, you could say that I'm worshiped where I am by at least one person,
and get to worship her back. I wouldn't give that up for anything."

She smiled her warm smile one last time. "Then I want you to just forget as
much about all this tripping around as you can. Those two men who don't end up
living like Clarence thought they were going to, don't you go hunting for
them. They'll find their way to you all by themselves, and you'll know what to
do with them. Nobody has to give you any more hints about that, but don't go
premeditating anything that will get you in trouble. Just let them lay their
ownselves into your hands and then you'll take care of business just fine. And
they'll provide any equipment you need. You trust me about that. Bye now. I'll
see you in your dreams some night, and that's a promise." With that she gave
me a parting kiss as gray fog encompassed us both and the world disappeared
from view.

The call box from the bottom of the stairs dredged me from the deep well of
slumber. My red Lycra dress was lost in the tangle of my bed. From the angle
of light at the high windows of my loft I judged the time to be late morning.
My bones and muscles tingled with an odd energy but still craved more sleep. I
dragged myself to the speaker and demanded who it was.

"Mother Christmas come to spread cheer to the good little shop girls of the
city," came Betty's chipper voice. Holding in front of my face a hand still
spotted and once more loose skinned was all the confirmation I needed that the
night's events had somehow been more than a dream, and that the gloriously
pumped muscles had relapsed into sagging torpor. I shuddered and hesitated but
buzzed her through.

I found my thin bathrobe just as Betty burst through the stairway door.
Glancing to be sure there was a clear path from her to me I told her I was
beside the bed. Without bothering with her stick she followed my voice in a
straight line, walking with confidence that I was setting her a course safe
from my clutter. We embraced and held each other tightly for long moments as I
fought to get my emotions under control, tears running down my newly lined
cheeks like rainfall on a parched desert. The hormones, I told myself, still
scrambled from my encounter with Clarence and Lenore. Ordinarily I would never
get so weepy from just holding my best friend once more.

"How is your Christmas going? I got through the evening festivities and we all
exchanged presents before bedtime. But then in the middle of the night I just
had to leave, to come back here and spend as much time with you as I could on
Christmas Day. I got a standby seat on a plane. Joseph was really a pill about
my rushing away, but Julie got home in time to tell him he'd have to suck it
up. She said she got an odd feeling you were having trouble so she practically
carried me through airport security on her back and tossed me on board the
plane."

She stroked my hair and rubbed my wrinkled cheek. My smile grew wider,
tightening the withered skin hanging from my cheeks and ringing my eyes. "I'm
exhausted. In only that way it's been like any Christmas rush. I tried to give
in equal measure to what I received for Christmas, but now I could sleep for a
week," I finally blurted out. I let my robe fall open and looked down at my
sagging body, the small flaccid breasts, the loosely upholstered abdomen, the
veined wreckage of my long legs. Lenore had said this would pass and that my
original tone and shape would return in another day. But for now I looked
pathetic. "I just want you to hold me like a weak, frightened child. I can't
imagine a better Christmas present."

I threw myself against her and reveled in the strength of her chest and arms.
Lenore had also suggested a brisk workout might restore the bulbous
muscularity her touch had lent me. Perhaps after a nap Betty and I might try a
bit of friendly wrestling. Betty does love a nice surprise. And I had to call
Sylvia and Petra first thing to suggest they have a Christmas Day chat with
some of their neighbors. Possibly drop off some rum pudding or other pacifying
gesture, and donate one of Petra's Mia Hamm statuettes to the local school.

"You've had a hard time of it," Betty purred. "You do sound tired. Relax and
let me take care of you. Your shop's closed tomorrow and I don't have anything
scheduled. Unless you've made a special effort at sprucing your loft I'd like
to take you to my place and give you two days of TLC. I still have my cab
waiting down below so just grab something to wear and let's go. We can turn in
early and make tomorrow be a holiday just for the two of us. Boxing Day, don't
they call it?"