It was December 24th: Christmas Eve. Flora had already sent out all of her gifts by mail: such were the advantages of online shopping, but she still felt that something was missing. 'Maybe a quick trip downtown might get me in the Christmas spirit!'
She caught a bus and headed for the mall, but it didn't work. Lots of stores had fancy window displays and boasted plenty of sales, but everything just seemed kind of hollow. Flurries of snow started drifting through the air. Things just weren't the same when you had to spend Christmas all by yourself.
Everybody else was just too far away. Her brothers had wives and girlfriends they wanted to spend time with. Mom and Dad, eager to escape the winter's cold, asked Flora if it would be okay if they went to Florida for Christmas. They offered to take her along, but Flora couldn't arrange to leave work early enough. Besides, she didn't want to go someplace warm for Christmas. She liked the snow and all its romance. Still, it was Christmas Eve, all of her city friends were leaving for home. She had been alone before, but to be alone for Christmas…
Flora was about to feel sorry for herself when a passing stranger knocked her into a snow bank.
She was in a sort of daze, lying in that snow bank. Her childhood instincts told her to make a snow angel, since she was on the ground anyway. She wondered whether or not to do it, but before she could decide the stranger reached down and grabbed her arm.
"I'm sorry!" he shouted, pulling Flora back on her feet. "I really am, but I have to save Christmas. Please accept my apologies." He quickly bowed and rushed down the street.
Flora blinked. Her childhood instincts kicked in again and she start running. "Wait!" She quickly caught up with him as the snow started falling faster. "What do you mean?"
"Ma'am, I know I knocked you over," he said firmly. He was walking as quickly as he could, his long, blue coat fluttering behind him. "But obstructing me means obstructing Christmas. I'll be forced to attack you."
"No, I don't want to stop you, but what do you mean that you have to save Christmas?"
"No time to explain. Let's just say that a whole lot of children are going to be unhappy if I don't finish my work."
Flora was intrigued and having nothing better to do she pestered him further. "What happened? Can I help?"
The man stopped and turned. "You want to help, really?"
"Well," Flora paused, "If it means saving Christmas, then I guess so."
"Hmm, well said: then we must leave now!"
"What? Where are we—"
The man took her by the hand and pulled her through the snow. Flora had to grab onto her hat to keep it from falling off. It was so exciting! 'I might have a good Christmas this year after all!'
He pulled her all the way through the parking lot, stressing all the while how little time they had. It was all Flora could do to keep up. Soon they reached a car: a black sedan with a chauffeur dressed in a black coat.
"Is she the only one you could find," the chauffeur asked.
"Yes, but she's the best I could ever ask for: let's go!" The man jumped in the car and waved Flora along. She hesitated.
"I…uh…don't take this the wrong way…"
"Miss, please. We need to get going."
"But I don't even know your name!"
"I don't know yours either," the man replied. Still, Flora was reluctant. Then man stepped out of the car and cleared his throat.
"I am Roger Sixtus," he bowed, "And I promise you, miss…"
"Flora," he continued, "If you come with me, I promise you the greatest Christmas you've ever had. Otherwise, you are free to go home."
Flora thought of her dark apartment, and of what she would do when she woke up the next morning. She climbed in the car, which took off into the thickening snow.
They left the city, and within an hour the car drove to the edge of a pine forest. There was a long driveway blocked by an iron gate. The gates opened and the car drove through, passing road crews that were shoveling snow, trying to keep the driveway open. Daylight turned to dusk as they drove for what seemed like hours, until finally they reached a big, gothic-looking mansion. Each of its three-dozen windows was lit with a candle, and that was just the side of the house. As Flora stepped out into the snow she could smell the smoke of a wood fire billowing out of the chimney.
"Hurry, we have a lot of preparation to make." Roger turned to one of the butlers waiting with an umbrella. "Did you find any more women, Justin?"
"Six, sir," Justin bowed. "We only have 21, I'm afraid."
"That's good enough," Roger declared. "Bring all the women into sitting room. Flora…"
"I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye for now, but I'll be along shortly. Please just follow Justin." with that Roger disappeared into the house.
The butler bowed and opened the door for Flora. "Right this way, ma'am."
He led her through the hallways, all lavishly decorated with garlands of holly and wreaths of evergreen. There was a Christmas tree in every room, and all rooms were lit by the light of dozens of tapered candles. Most important, everyone was busy. The maids and butlers, dressed in their black skirts and tuxedos were rushing about with trays of food and fine china. Chefs were shouting from the kitchen, and maids shouted back. It was so much going on and Justin rushed her through so fast that Flora felt she was caught in a whirlwind. The entire mansion was steeped in the scents and sights of Christmas. Flora felt like she had died and gone to Christmas heaven.
Unfortunately, this was not where she was meant to be. Justin ushered her deeper and deeper into the house, until finally she reached a large hall. There the other women were waiting, warming themselves by a roaring fire.
"Please wait here," Justin bowed. "I need to go back to the kitchen for a moment, but I will return."
Soon he was gone, and Flora, having nothing better to do, walked over to the fire where the rest of the women sat. Everyone was talking, marveling at the size of the house, and wondering what they were supposed to do.
"One of the maids said that there's supposed to be a big party tomorrow morning. I think we're supposed to be extra help, or something."
"Yeah, it's supposed to be something big. These rich people really go all out for Christmas, don't they?"
"I heard that they hold a kind of banquet around here for the owner's daughter. He's owns some kind of chemical empire, or something."
"Ladies, will you please stand?"
"Hmm?" Flora turned around to find Justin standing behind her, accompanied by a battalion of maids. They parted ranks, and a little girl stepped forward, dressed in a shining green silk and embroidered in gold.
"Justin: who are these people?"
"Miss Patricia," Justin calmly began. "These are the women who have volunteered to help at our Christmas party."
Bing! One of the maids, holding a smart phone on a velvet pillow, knelt before Patricia. "A text message for you, miss."
"Ooo! It must be from Denise!" She quickly started texting a reply. Justin cleared his throat.
"Yeah...one minute." She was still staring through her glasses blankly at the tiny screen.
The entire room was still as the girl finished her text and placed her phone on a velvet cushion. "Now, who are they again?"
"They're volunteers, miss. Mr. Roger picked them out."
Bing! Another text: Patricia grabbed her phone.
"Miss Patricia," Justin whispered, "I don't think—"
"I said hold on! Idiot…"
Everyone grew quiet again as Patricia sent her friend a reply. Flora was getting tired of standing so straight. 'Is this kid for real," she wondered.
"Who is this," Patricia pointed. Her chubby little finger wagged accusingly at Flora. Before anyone could answer, Patricia jabbed, "Her clothes are ugly."
Flora looked down at her fluffy pink sweater and the fruit-striped skirt that reached down to her ankles. It was easy for a little rich girl to say something about her clothes, but Flora couldn't help feeling a little hurt.
"The volunteers will be provided new clothing before the party, if you like."
"Good! If she doesn't change then she can't come to my Christmas party. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Justin sighed
"Good!" Patricia dismissed Justin and the women with a wave of her hand and picked up her smart phone with the other. She and her platoon of maids walked away.
"What a brat," one of the women mumbled.
"Do not speak ill of the master's daughter," Justin snapped. "It is on her behalf that this party is being held." The women all shut up.
Fortunately Roger returned, laughing heartily. "Hello ladies! I'm so glad that you could all make it." He noticed the sour look on Flora's face. "What's wrong?"
Justin whispered into Roger's ear. Roger shook his head. "And on Christmas Eve, no less…"
He turned back to the women. "My apologies for making you wait, ladies. We're about to get started; please follow me."
"And Flora, don't worry about Patricia," Roger winked. "I'm very happy that you're here."
Flora followed Roger and the rest of the women into another room. She was still fuming about Patricia, but was still willing to go ahead, just to spite her.
Patricia, meanwhile, was still texting when she and her maids walked into the house ballroom. There all of her girlfriends waited. They flocked around her and wished her a merry Christmas. Patricia was about to wish them a merry Christmas as well when her phone chimed. It was a text from Denise.
"Whr R U"
Patricia walked through the crowd until she found Denise standing in the back of a room, wearing a sparkling white snowflake dress.
"Hello, darling," Patricia greeted. "Merry Christmas…"
Denise looked up from her phone. "Huh?"
"Never mind," Patricia sighed. "How are you?"
"Oh…bored. What took you so long?"
"I had to do some dumb stuff for the party. Where's the food around here? I'm starving!"
At that moment Patricia's battalion of maids scrambled into action. Christmas cookies were immediately rushed into the room, and the maids served them on silver platters. The three dozen girls eagerly scarfed them down.
"So," Patricia munched, "What did your daddy get you, Denise?"
"Daddy bought me a car, but no chauffeur…ugh."
"Oh, I got one of those last year," Patricia bragged. "I'm so glad you finally have one. I got a new swimming pool off the side of my bedroom. That's all I wanted this year: that, and this party."
"Oh, I always love your parties, Patricia." Her friend Memphis walked up to the two of them, dressed in shimmering blue. "But I need to ask something. Is it true that your tutor planned the entire event?"
"Mr. Roger is not a tutor: he's scientist! Daddy just hired him to follow me around and help me, isn't that right, Justin?"
"Yes, miss Patricia," the butler replied stoically.
"Mr. Roger was ordered to plan the party, and I made sure that he will do something absolutely fantastic. Daddy wouldn't let him do otherwise."
"Wonderful! What is he going to do?"
Patricia mumbled something about not spoiling the surprise, but in truth she had no idea what Mr. Roger was up to either. Her father had promised a wonderful Christmas party, and what Daddy promised was as good as done.
"More cookies!" Patricia grabbed a handful off the nearest platter and chowed down. "Let's get the party started!"
"Of course, madam," Justin replied. He and the maids handed cookies all around, until the girls could eat no more.
Flora and the women were led into a small room, lit only by candlelight, far away from the bustle and festivities surrounding them. It was nighttime already, and the snow was piling up in the corners of the window frame. All was silent, and Flora was starting to feel sleepy.
"Don't fall asleep just yet," Roger teased. "We still have important work to do."
"But we haven't done anything," a redheaded lady shouted drowsily. "We've just been waiting around all night!"
The women raised a half-hearted protest, but Roger was not moved. "Don't worry, ladies. We're a little behind schedule, but I know that we can begin at any second—"
An ear-splitting scream woke everyone up. One of the women in the far corner had her arms wrapped around her chest. Roger ran to her. "What's wrong?"
"My clothes," she panicked. "They're…they're getting looser! What's happening to them?"
"Just sit down, it's alright." Roger helped her to a chair as the other women watched. Her clothes did seem rather baggy, but they must have been that way before. She sat down, looking worriedly up at Roger as he checked her pulse.
"…I see. No problem! Just sit here and everything will be fine, alright? Take some deep breaths and stay calm."
"Hey mister!" one of the women raised her hand. "I feel a little funny too!"
"And me," another woman nervously added, clutching at her shirt.
"And me!" One woman grabbed hold of her jeans as the waistband slid down her hips.
Flora didn't understand what was happening. She just wanted to just take a nap, but then she started feeling strange. Her body suddenly felt clean and cool, and for no reason there was a strange scent of peppermint in the air. She shook her head, trying to wake herself up, but it was no use.
Flora yawned rubbed her eyes, suddenly realizing that her watch had slipped over her hand.
It was at that moment that Flora finally realized what was happening to the other women: they were getting smaller, and so was she. Flora's sweater no longer hugged her chest quite as snugly. Her long skirt now covered her furry boots, which felt a couple sizes too big. Her arms were getting shorter, and her pink, fuzzy sleeves were slipping over her hands.
"Roger! Help me!"
"What's wrong?" He ran over to her. "Are you alright?"
Suddenly she yawned grandly. She covered her mouth and tried to focus. "Sorry…I'm getting smaller!"
"I see," he winked. "Just hold on a little bit, Flora. I'll be back."
Flora was about to object, but she yawned again and couldn't complain until she stopped, and by that time Roger was already across the room. Her bra felt very loose. The straps no longer needed to stretch, and it felt like her breasts weren't as heavy as before. Then the band of her bra just went slack as her torso became thinner. The bra just kind of dangled off of her shoulders as her breasts rattled around the oversized cups. Her skirt was piling up around her feet, and Flora felt her hips getting slimmer. She held onto her skirt just in case.
Just at that moment her panties slipped down around her thighs. No one could see because of her huge skirt, but that didn't stop Flora from screaming.
"Roger, help—ah!" Flora covered her mouth. "My voice: something's wrong with my voice!"
"Mine too," another woman squeaked. They all were having the same problem: they sounded like children!
"I'm coming, ladies! Don't panic," Roger smiled.
"Please, work faster," Flora peeped. Her hands had disappeared inside of her shirt-sleeves, and her bra straps were slipping off her shoulders. Flora looked at the first woman who had noticed the changes. She was sitting in the comfy chair, getting smaller and smaller, but she didn't look worried. She just yawned and stretched her arms, then settled into the big plush cushions. She was falling asleep, and all the while she was growing smaller: getting younger.
Flora would have been worried, but the whole scene made her want to fall asleep too! All around her women were wandering around drowsily, holding up their clothes. They'd yawn and sit down to rest, and all the while their hips were narrowing, their limbs getting thinner and scrawnier, and their breasts diminishing into tiny mole-holes before disappearing altogether. This didn't faze them, however. They just sat down on the ground, looking dazed with fatigue, and then they'd quietly lie down and…
Yawwwwnnnn…it was all…so tiring. Flora's panties had hit the floor, as did her skirt, but Flora was too tired to notice. She just…couldn't stop yawning. Her sweater reached down to her knees, and the sleeves just flopped over her tiny hands as she covered her mouth. "Roger," she yawned, "I don't…wanna be small," she said in her cute, squeaky voice. Her breasts had disappeared, and a little baby fat was coming back into her cheeks. "But I's just so…so sweepy…"
"That's okay. You should get some rest."
"Oooooo-tay…" She laid down on the floor, using her bunched up skirt as a mattress. She snuggled into her fluffy pink sweater, shrinking just a little bit more.
"Good night, sweetie: I'll see you on Christmas morning."
Soon all the women were asleep, shrunk down into little children.
Roger smiled and quietly asked the maids to take the girls to bed. He was halfway done.
After a night of dancing, eating, and overall partying, Patricia and her friends were escorted into the pillow room, so called because it was lined wall to wall with cushions. A thick layer of mattresses lined the floor so you could practically bounce from one end of the room to the other, and in the center was a huge mound of pillows, just in case you were feeling adventurous. The girls, stuffed with cookies and hot cocoa, found places on the floor to lounge about.
"Wow," Patricia moaned. "That was so…awesome!"
"Yeah," Memphis groaned, rubbing her belly. "You're pet-scientist guy sure knows how to throw a party."
Denise, unable to speak, belched in agreement.
"And that's just Christmas Eve." Patricia pulled out her phone to check another text message. "Imagine how awesome tomorrow's gonna be!"
"Are we going to stay up all night," Denise asked.
"Yeah, duh!" Patricia shook her head as she tried to send her text message, but her ordinarily nimble fingers were having trouble pushing the right buttons.
"Ugh, this phone is so stupid. Justin!"
"Yes," the butler yawned. "What can I do?"
"Tell Daddy that I need a new phone."
"And I need a smaller dress; this one is too loose!"
"Your dress is loose?" Denise tugged at her own dress. "Mine is too."
Patricia nodded vacantly as her fingers fumbled with the phone screen. Suddenly she sat up. "Wait, you're dress is loose too?"
"…uh, yeah. That's what I just said."
Patricia was elated. "Memphis! Is your dress loose too?" Memphis nodded that it was.
"This is another part of the party," Patricia giggled. "I think we're getting smaller!"
Denise and Memphis looked and Patricia like she was insane, but she insisted, "Roger does this sort of thing all the time! Look how big your dresses are getting—oh!"
Patricia grabbed onto her dress as she lost an inch. The others felt a sensation of shrinking as their dresses became too big for them.
"Hey, we really are getting smaller!"
"This is so cool," Denise squeaked, the pitch of her voice climbing higher. "I knew your Christmas party was going to be awesome!"
The other girls were noticing the shrinking as well, and while some were uneasy, they took their cue from Patricia and started enjoying themselves. They were shrinking out of their dresses, getting smaller and smaller. Patricia gathered up her skirt and stood up.
"Let's climb on top of the pillow pile before we get too small!"
The three of them ran to it, getting smaller all the way. They reached the pile and eagerly began climbing. As they climbed higher and higher, they grew smaller and smaller, making the climb more difficult, but they managed to scramble to the top.
The view was magnificent. All the girls were much smaller now, bouncing off of the floor and giggling in their cute, tiny voices. The maids towered above them all, but Patricia, Denise, and Memphis towered above them. It was like standing atop a soft, squishy mountain.
"Roger is so awesome! I can't believe he did it!"
"Wow, your voice sounds so squeaky," Memphis peeped. "You sound like you're on helium!"
"You too," Patricia giggled. "Oh! My voice just got a little higher!"
"That's means you're getting smaller again." Denise marveled at the sound of her own voice and pulled up her dress again. "We need new clothes, though."
"You're right." Patricia gathered up her own dress, which now seemed like a big tangle of fabric around her body. She bellowed in her high squeaky voice, "Justin!" Patricia could see her giant butler off in the distance, but he didn't seem to hear her.
"Justin, get over here right this instant!"
"Patricia," Memphis interrupted, "I think there's something—"
"Shut up, Memphis: I'm talking now! Justin—"
"But there's something weird on your face."
Patricia glared at Memphis, but suddenly she notices something strange. Her face looked shiny: very shiny, as if someone had polished her face to a fine sheen. Her skin didn't even look like skin, but instead seemed smooth and hard like glass. Denise looked the same, and from the looks on their shiny faces Patricia feared that the same was happening to her.
Then their faces started growing paler. The rosy hue of Denise's cheeks was fading away. Memphis's face lost all color, except for her lips, which turned ruby red: so vibrant that they seemed to have been painted on. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and on each blank cheek their appeared a big pink dot. Patricia's friends were the color of teacups, staring back at her with glittering eyes and painted smiles.
"What's going on, Patricia? Why's your face so weird?"
Patricia reached out for Denise's face. There was a soft "clink" as her finger touched that smooth, white surface. Patricia looked down and saw that her hand was also white. "We're…turning into dolls!"
"Dolls?" Denise looked at her hands and saw them swiftly harden into shiny, white porcelain. She screamed, and in her panic she dropped her dress, which slipped off her little body. She quickly tried to cover herself, but there was nothing to see. Denise's skin had changed into simple, brown cloth. Memphis looked under her growing dress and saw the same thing. Tears welled up in her eyes as her long, curly hair slowly solidified into hard china and fused to the rest of her head.
"We have to get out of here!"
They looked down, but the soft pillow mountain that had been so fun to climb now seemed like an intimidating descent. Patricia's small heart fell into her stomach.
"I can't go down there," Memphis cried.
"Me neither," Patricia agreed, so she took a deep breath and screamed in her tiny voice, "Help! Justin, help!" Her voice sounded so small, she was afraid that no one would hear her. She kept screaming, however, unable to bring herself to climb down the mountain.
"Patricia," Denise squeaked, "Something's wrong with Memphis!"
Memphis face was twisting, trying very hard to hold back a smile. She held up her white, gleaming hands she stuttered, "I'm…my hands...I…can't move my… hands. It's…getting hard too… talk." Even as tears started flowing down her hard porcelain cheeks her painted smile grew wider and wider.
"What's wrong," Patricia asked with mounting dread. "What's happening to you?"
Memphis looked like she was about to answer, but she suddenly grew quiet. It the girls didn't realize that she was frozen until her body went limp and she fell on her back. All Memphis did now was stare at the ceiling with that vacant, doll-like smile on her face.
"No!" Denise squeaked. "What do we do?"
"I don't know, but Justin will fix this! Where is he? I called him, but why isn't he coming?"
"Maybe your voice is too small and he can't hear you, or…maybe he's somewhere…else in the…mansion…or…may…be…I…my…"
"Denise, help me call him! Maybe he'll—Denise!"
Denise tried to mumble something, but soon she was frozen just like Memphis's. She begged for help with her outstretched arms, but these cloth appendages soon went limp, and Denise tumbled onto her face. Patricia reached down and tried to lift Denise with her china hands, but when she did all she saw was that weird doll smile on her face.
"Justin! Justin," she screamed, trying to fight the smile. "I need you…your help…Den…Den…ise…I'm…I don't…wanna…change…I…'m…not…"
Patricia fell silent. Slowly she felt all of the strength drain out of her limbs. Her stuffed cloth knees folded, and she fell helplessly off the edge of the mountain, tumbling head over heels until finally she ran smack into a thick, fluffy cushion: poof!
'Where am I? What's going on? I don't want to be small, or a doll, or anything else! Please, help me!' Patricia continued to cry out, even though this was all in her mind and no one could hear her. Suddenly a huge shadow loomed over her.
"I knew that the pillow room would be a good idea," Justin said as he reached down. "Otherwise you girls might have been chipped in an accident." He picked up Patricia, then grabbed Denise and Memphis, who were still perched atop the pillow pile.
Very gingerly he carried them out of the room, and then Justin handed Memphis and Denise to one of the maids.
"Make sure they're all dressed and wrapped for the morning. We'll need them to be ready at first light when the girls wake up. I'll take care of Miss Patricia myself."
'The girls? Morning? What's going on?'
Justin brought Patricia to the play room, where many of her old toys were stored. He placed her gently on an old doll chair, and searched through a nearby doll house until he found a tiny dress.
'Huh? That's one of my old doll dresses!' Justin slipped it on her and found that it fit perfectly, much to Patricia's embarrassment. Taking care to wipe the smudges off of Patricia's porcelain face, he picked her up carefully an enclosed her in a box.
She felt her box being carried, but where to she had no idea. She felt Justin put the box down, and then nothing. Patricia was completely cut off: no light, no sound, and no way to move. For the first time in her life, Patricia felt truly alone.
"Merry Christmas, honey…wake up…"
"Come on, baby: wake up. It's Christmas morning!"
"Let's go open your presents!"
"Presents," Flora asked excitedly. "Really?"
"Yeah!" The maid was only supposed to be acting, but she was getting excited. "Let's wake up the others!"
Flora rubbed her eyes and saw another bed above her. She turned and saw a row of beds stretching off in the distance: beds to the right, and beds to the left, each one holding two little girls. Everyone was sound asleep, even the girl who sharing Flora's bed. 'What am I doing here,' she wondered.
"Come on, honey: it's time for presents!"
"Oh, right!" With a sprightly leap Flora tumbled out of the bed and started shaking her neighbor. "Wake up! It's time for presents!"
Soon the entire room was abuzz with three dozen girls hopping around in their pajamas. The maids gave them each a pair of fuzzy white slippers and did their best to herd them out of the room. They thundered down the stairs as fast as their little legs would carry them, and they soon met Roger, guarding the door to the play room.
"Good morning, girls," he smiled. "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Flora screamed.
"Well, someone's certainly excited! Were you a good girl this year, Flora?"
Flora nodded eagerly, and so did the other girls.
"Are you sure? I don't know if Santa came last night."
"What? No! He had to come!" The girls were on the verge of rioting.
"Okay, okay," Roger laughed. "Let me look inside to see if he came."
Roger unlocked the play-room door with a big brass key, and then he peeked inside. Flora held her breath as Roger looked back into her big, hope-filled eyes.
"Follow me, girls," he whispered.
They all crowded around him as he walked inside the darkened room. There was a little light filtering in through the snow-covered window, but they couldn't see much. Suddenly Roger turned on the lights.
There was a massive Christmas tree, decorated with tinsel, bows, and candy canes, and sitting at the bottom of was a mountain of presents. The girls were beside themselves with joy. They rushed forward, pell-mell, but the maids quickly corralled them before they could reach the gifts.
"Settle down," Roger urged,"…otherwise no one is going to get a present."
The girls sat down on the carpet, and Roger started handing out gifts. He made the girls wait until everyone got one, and by that time they were ready to burst. Once Roger gave them the signal they tore through the wrapping paper.
Meanwhile, Patricia was wondering what was going on. She was being rattled around inside of her box, unable to move or see. Suddenly she heard a rustling noise, and squeals of joy. Her dread began to mount. The lid of the box opened, and Patricia was blinded by the light.
"A doll!" A pair of hands whisked Patricia out of her box and held her up in the air. Patricia looked: some giant child with a huge smile on her face had her in her grip. That wasn't the worst of it, though. Even though the giant girl was a child, Patricia recognized her face. It was the girl with the ugly clothes, now dressed up in her pajamas! This was untenable, this was an outrage, this was—
"She's perfect," Flora sighed, and she gave Patricia the biggest, warmest hug she had ever had. Patricia, her anger dying away, melted in Flora's little arms.
Roger stood back to let the girls play with their new dolls, taking the chance to pull out his phone. There was an important call to make.
"Hello master," Roger greeted respectfully. "Yes, they're all having fun; everything worked perfectly. Thank you again for your confidence." He poked his head around the corner, watching Flora put Patricia on a doll chair and help the other girls set up a tea party.
"Yes, Patricia is doing fine. I knew exactly the girl to give her to. They'll make a great pair." Roger waited, and listened, watching as the maids scurried after girls, making sure that they were being careful.
"Yes, sir: I appreciate it. Have a merry Christmas, master."
For the rest of the day Flora and Patricia were inseparable. At breakfast, where the chefs served waffles and chocolate, Flora was holding onto Patricia. Patricia was on Flora's lap at story time, and when they sat down in the mansion's theater for the Christmas movie, Flora was holding her tight. At dinner Flora even asked for a chair so that Patricia could sit next to her.
Patricia couldn't understand: she was just a doll. She couldn't move, couldn't talk, or do anything else. So why when she was in Flora's arms did she feel so happy? Her questions, however, would disappear when Flora grabbed onto her arm and squeezed her tight.
That night, after an entire day of feasting, playing, and gift-giving, Flora went back to bed with Patricia under her blanket. Patricia didn't have to sleep, since she was a doll, but she was happy to be in bed, safe in Flora's arms. It had been the best Christmas ever.
If she were not asleep at the time, Flora would have agreed.
Finally, I've finished my first Christmas story! For a moment I thought I wasn't going to make it. It's a Christmas miracle!
Okay, so maybe it's not a miracle, but read the story anyway.
Flora is about to spend her first Christmas alone, but on Christmas Eve she runs into a strange man at the mall, who claims that he has no time to stop because he has to save Christmas. Flora, deciding that a strange Christmas is better than a lonely Christmas, volunteers to help, but what kind of trouble has she gotten herself into?
This story contains age regression. Enjoy, and a Merry Christmas to all!
It was a way to give Patricia something she's never had before. Her daddy is rich, so she doesn't need any gifts. Instead she gets to be the gift, as well as the opportunity to feel absolutely loved. She gets to see what regular people feel at Christmas, get some of that magic back, rather than just getting another high-priced toy or clothes.
I'm glad you liked it. Merry Christmas!