Winter Wonderland (With Splintered Trees)

So!  Had myself a white christmas.  How about that?  There have only been a few here in my memory.  It's seldom quite cold enough for that.  Late xmas evening it began to rain -- freezing rain.  Anyone whose been in an ice storm knows how harrowing that can be.  It's not the worst I've been in, that was about ten years ago, but you sit there watching the ice encapsulate every tree branch, every leaf, every blade of grass inside a frozen tomb.  Then it turned into a blizzard which lasted all night long. 

Snow is fine, but ice is heavy.  Branches break and trees fall.  You could hear transformers blowing throughout the city like distant cannon fire, one neighborhood going dark after another, all the while waiting for your turn.  You know when it goes, with the streets icy and so many outages, it could take days or a week for the power to come back on.  Nearly the entire city of Little Rock was made powerless on Christmas night.

Somehow my neighborhood was one of the few that was spared.  So I've been cozy warm and with miraculous electric light throughout it all.  I did slide on snow driving my sister to the airport and scratched up my fenders, and some of bushes have been uprooted, but I have little to complain about.  Many others had it far worse.  And now it's all slowly melting away.

But there is beauty to be found in the ice.  The following morning I went outside to see the rising sun shining through the icy branches, a forest glittering as if made of crystal glass, all white and silver.  Not bad!

Happy Merries All For You

This is your friendly dollmother here, wishing all and sundry and a happy xmas.  And it has to happy.  The creepy vintage cats said so.

Chastity!

This year is a black tree with red lights, but half the string went out.  Alas!  Alas.  But at least the gingerbread eggnog is tasty.  Speaking of holiday treats... you really have to watch your diet while in unremovable steel garments. 

Pumpkin Slave - A Transformation

I started these around Halloween.  They took longer than I expected, so now here's a sprinkle of Halloween in your Christmas.  Well, there's nothing wrong with that.

This young lady has discovered why it's not wise to piss off the fairies of the pumpkin patch under a full moon.

After having wandered away from the party cabin, Jennifer has been roaming the woods, lost, for hours.  She came across a huge abandoned pumpkin patch gone wild and unruly.  In her frustration, she stomped and shattered several pumpkins, unknowingly raising the ire of the guardian fairies.  How could she know?  She didn't even know fairies existed.  But you and I know.  We also know that fairies are prone to delivering disproportional punishments when angry, and they decided she should spend the rest of her now unnaturally long life tending the pumpkin patch.

The poor thing, Jennifer fights against her transformation, frantically feeling the unyielding waxy skin of her new head, her permanently smiling expression carved into its surface, forever happy despite her terror.  The cuttings are prepetually moist with beads of dew, as if freshly carved.  She can still see, somehow, through empty glowing eye holes, lit from within from an unseen source.  Understandably distracted by her head, she has yet to notice the tendrils of pumpkin vines sprouting elsewhere on her body.

Now utterly exhausted, limp from struggling uselessly against her transformation, Jennifer lies slumped against an ruined fence.  The transformation is nearly complete, and vines growing from her flesh have wound around her arms and legs.  They will move her like a helpless marionette, forcing her to perform her new tasks of tending the patch, at least until she gets into the flow of things. 

She explores her newly bountiful breasts; though still soft and supple, they have taken on the grooved texture of pumpkins.  Her nipples, however, have turned into tough, woody pumpkin stems.  As she twists one experimentally, overwhelming will-destroying pleasure flows through her and she discovers her punishment isn't all bad.  With free access to bliss like this, she might soon lose all resistance for her role as a pumpkin slave.  She might not even remember her name, or that she was ever human to begin with.

Stretched open wide from the tight tug of the vines, the pleasure triggers slimy strings and gobs of seed-laden pumpkin pulp begin to spill from within her transformed and fruitful womb.  Later as she is walking the field, going about her tasks, the pulp will dribble down her thighs and onto the ground, leaving seeds wherever she goes and giving life to new pumpkins.  I think she will be quite happy with her new life.  Perhaps the fairies weren't so cruel after all!

Magically hidden to human eyes, she might never be seen again.  Unless, of course, you happen upon the right wild pumpkin patch under a full moon.

Story Time - The Acrobat

There's something wintery in the air.  A certain festive jingle in the music in the grocery stores.  Are those xmas lights I see?  Well, I'll be!  It looks like it's that time of year.  You know, when I was a child I would ask for so much for xmas, more than I could or would possibly receive.  I'd go through the toy section of the JC Penny's "Wish Book" catalog, circling item after coveted item and carefully listing them on a sheet of notebook paper.  But when you grow up and have the money to buy this or that, you don't really want much for xmas.  It becomes a struggle to think of something to ask for.  And my sister?  This year she wants a laundry bag.  Well... I guess I can handle that.

To accompany the festivities, I'd say a warm and fuzzy story is called for!  Here is another of my friend soubrette's short stories set in my slave role generator mansion.  It's called The Acrobat.

The Acrobat by soubrette

    She came for me again today, this morning. It was nearing noon, and I was making myself busy investigating the various stations in the dungeon, trying new positions on the furniture and slings. The place was empty except for me and a human chair off in the corner. A somewhat boring human chair that didn’t seem to be interested in talking to a lowly naked pain slut, I might add. The furniture here can be so snooty sometimes. Anyway, I was maneuvering myself into a sort of spread-eagle hand-stand in an attempt to loop my legs around the straps of a sling and swing in it upside down. You know, for fun. I had just managed to wrap my right leg around one strap and support enough of myself to try and do the same with the left leg when I heard the dungeon door click open.