You were on your way to class, it is the last day before break. It was a seasonably warm day in mid-December so you took your bike rather than waste the gas as you were short on gas money. Riding down the street you passed several houses you almost gagged at how over decorated they were. It made you almost hate Christmas just how plastic and artificial they were. A passing car made you move your bike up onto the side walk where you didn't see that a large plastic candy can had fallen on the sidewalk in front of you. Your bike pitched forward sending you flying over the handle bars. Your helmeted head bounced safely off the sidewalk although there was a ringing in your ears. Getting up, your brushed yourself off, and looked at the house you were in front of. There was the usual decorations, but they were strewn all over the yard with no order. Some fallen over, others not even plugged in. You looked at the candy cane your hand about 2 feet tall, it was part of a set that lined the sides of the driveway at one point. You noticed it was broken and figured you should let the owner know. You walked to the door and rang the doorbell. No answer, the door opened and you saw no one was home. The house was the same a mish-mash of decorations all over. "hello?" You shouted.... no response. You felt a need to walk in, someone had to be there, you couldn't just leave. You took a step in, walking down the hall into the kitchen. The table was covered in baking supplies. Like someone started making cookies but had to leave. You heard the oven timer go off and figured, better not let a fire start. You looked around and saw oven mitts and put one on each hand. You open the oven to find a tray of sugar cookies. You put the tray down and took off the mitts to find ver.y different hands. The were downright tiny. Petite little things with a beautiful manicure, completely with very festive nail art. Stunned you looked down and also your whole arms were thinning. The tray actually feeling a little heavy. You wanted to scream, as you felt the compelled to walk over and pick up the green Christmas apron on the chair. You put it on and began measuring out butter and sugar for frosting. The apron seemed to press down on your clothes. The red and green bleeding into your shirt and jeans that began to tighten. Your jeans tightening into a pair of Christmas leggings with a bright red christmas tree sweatshirt. The mixer you needed your mixer, you thought. Ignoring how you were already considering this your house. Putting the ingredients in you turned it on too high and the dry ingredients flew into your face. You started coughing, the pitch slowly going up as your adam's apple shrank and you settled into a warm alto. Wiping off your face you also seemed to wipe away all your beard and smooth out your face. Rubbing your eyes you got just the tiniest hit of a wrinkle in the corner of your eyes. The white sugar also landed on just a couple strands of hair, melding into you the hair making them a matching white. Your face also becoming gorgeous but more mature than what you had seen in the mirror. You sat down on the wooden kitchen chair, you made a note. Only 17 more kinds of cookies to make. Your husband asked you to scale back, so you eliminated one kind, it was a sacrifice. You crossed your now sleek legs encased tantalizingly inside your leggings. At this point not even noticing the lack of resistance between them. Your genitals having shifted to their feminine equivalent. You picked up the next tray for the oven having moved into baking mode so eloquently, you didn't even notice. You sat down on the wooden kitchen chair, you made a note. Only 17 more kinds of cookies to make. Your husband asked you to scale back, so you eliminated one kind, it was a sacrifice. You crossed your now sleek legs encased tantalizingly inside your leggings. At this point, not even noticing the lack of resistance between them. Your genitals having shifted to their feminine equivalent. You picked up the next tray for the oven having moved into baking mode so eloquently, you didn't even notice. For each batch of cookies you had to reach higher and higher. Not registering your now elfish height of 4'11". You put on a pair of green fuzzy Christmas tree slippers you found laying on the floor and made yourself a cup of cocoa holding it contentedly in your tiny hands. The warm drink felt like it poured straight into your chest as your chest ballooned into cute little B cup titties. t know that the original Noelle had died in a car accident 4 months earlier, the house knew it needed her back and it sensed you were the right fit. You took off the apron not noticing the writing appearing on it, oo you feel a little queasy, maybe you sampled too many cookies, you felt a tiny bit bloated.