Never Let Grandma Buy Gifts

If I could blame anyone for this nightmare of a holiday, it would be Jennifer Hale and my grandma. Now, you may wonder why an acclaimed voice actress would take time out of her Christmas schedule to ensure that my holiday was spent getting thoroughly fucked. Well, that's just the thing. She didn't.

For those of you who have never played the seminal classic of our time, Mass Effect, picture this: Star Wars, but better and you get to be the main character. You get to pick their face, their abilities, and their choices in a vast, epic plotline that spans three video games until you get shoved three equally unsatisfying endings because Electronic Arts are hacks who forced the developers to rewrite the ending at the last minute. But the most essential choice you can make is which gender your protagonist, Commander Shepard, will be.

Male Shepard is voiced by a plank of wood.

Female Shepard is voiced by Jennifer "I voiced most of the best characters in the best video games for the past thirty years" Hale.

The choice was obvious.

And ever since the day I had played my Dad's copy of Mass Effect, I had a tradition. When I got a choice in a video game, I chose girl.

Which leads us to Pre-Christmas and the beginning of my long nightmare.

First, let me set the scene. My family and I live in Silicon Valley. My brother's up near the Golden Gate Bridge, my sister is near the Rockies, and the rest of my family scattered themselves up and down the coast in a vast Caucasian diaspora. My brother made his living writing books. After five years of writing meditative, contemplative narratives about introspective dudes living in the shrinking wilderness of our increasingly modern lives, my brother got on the best selling list by putting out Christmas with the Carsteins, a Twilight knockoff about a family of mopey vampires having a holiday vacation and the romance their youngest son gets up to with a generic YA protagonist. He was on to Vampires with Valentines and the movie rights for a CGI animated adaptation for the first novel (with plans for books 3-5) had gotten him enough money to bring the entire extended family together at his brand new mansion.

Since this was winter and California, I drove my grandma and grandpa up to the mansion through a torrential, pouring rain. That's Christmas in California for you. Other states get snow. Do you know how much I'd literally kill for snow? You can ball snow up and throw it at people. You can build snowmen. You could make snow angels. You know what you can do with rain? Nothing. Jack shit. I scowled, even as my grandpa -- a man who was 80% tall and 20% skinny and 5% conservative -- looked out through the rain streaked window with lips pursed as tight as a prune.

Grandpa often said that his politics were somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun. I think that he was trying to find something to be offended at in Frisco as we puttered along. By contrast, Grandma was practically glowing with beneficent, near sighted Christian joy.

"God bless you for this, Henry," she said, her voice a cheery quaver.

"It's cool, grandma," I said, casually, hitting the brakes as a car ahead of us decided to stop in the middle of the road. Rain and Californian drivers combined like LSD and performing surgery. It usually ended in blood and severed limbs. "Uh, what's that package you got?"

"Oh, it's for you, honey!" Grandma said, cheerfully. "Your brother was such a dear. We asked him what you'd like, and he told us, since you don't do lists anymore."

I flushed. Being nineteen years of age and starting college, it felt fucking juvenile to write down a list of what I wished for for Christmas. Considering how my wishlist went: 1) Girlfriend. 2) Girlfriend. 3) Girlfriend. 4) Girlfriend. 5) ...new computer. 6) Girlfriend. And no, I didn't want a girlfriend six times, I wanted six girlfriends. If you were going to dream, dream big! But the flush wasn't just the embarrassed flush of a nineteen year old boy not wanting to have his grandma reach forward and-

Grandma reached forward and pinched my cheek. "You're always gonna be my little sugar-angel, Henry."

"Graaaaandmaaaa!" I waved my hand. Flailed it, really.

"More like a little queer angel..." Grandpa muttered.

Grandma ignored him. Or maybe didn't hear him, she was pretty deaf. I scowled in the rear view mirror, looking back at my Grandpa. He was looking at my hair. Because a boy couldn't grow hair slightly longer than a military buzz-cut without being one step up from a Sodomite for Grandpa. I sighed. I didn't like dick. I could have told Grandpa that, but he wouldn't believe me. He'd just look at the hair, purse his lips, then shake his head with a frown.

Finally, we came to my brother's mansion. Parking at the front, I looked at it through the rain and decided that it wasn't what most people would think of a mansion. Remember, this was San Francisco. And that meant space went for slightly more than real estate on the fucking moon. So, Trevor's mansion wasn't that much bigger than the house I had grown up in. Where it showed off the money was in the classiness of the building. It looked like marble and varnished wood, with stately pillars keeping up the awning over the porch, and a warm glow came from every fancy window. I opened the door to my beat up car, unfurling an umbrella as quickly as I could. I held it over Grandma's door, and soon, was holding her elbow as she slowly, carefully tottered her way towards the front door.

Grandpa just stalked forward like a preying mantis. Once, I had offered him an umbrella, and he had growled something about Vietnam. Yes, grandpa, we were all impressed by the fact you survived five years getting shot at in a jungle. Now use a goddamn umbrella.

The front door opened and Trevor stood there. He was dressed as I had expected -- rumpled, with a faded Kill Six Billion Demons tee-shirt. Have no idea what KSBD is? Yeah, me neither. It was an anime I think. You'd think making a few million bucks selling books to horny teenage girls desperate for a vampire chomping them would force someone to buy some fresh clothes. But Trevor had somehow managed to buy the classiest house, the fanciest wife (okay, he didn't buy her, but I'm pretty sure Matilda wouldn't have said yes if he hadn't made a few million bucks in the past few months), and a sweet Tesla sports car...but he still dressed like he was working at McDonalds.

Maybe I was being over critical due to being intensely jealous.

Trevor took my hand, grinning. "Hey Henry! And Grandma! And Grandpa!" he bustled forward. Grandma kissed both his cheeks and Grandpa patted his back and soon, we were all bustled inside. I walked past Trevor -- who was being grilled by Grandpa -- to look around. Inside, I saw Matilda. Tall, thin, and deeply beautiful, Matilda was already sipping wine and nibbling on cheese with my Dad, who looked as bluff and ruggedly handsome as ever. My sister was already pouring down the wine as she sprawled on the sofa. I walked over to the sofa, sitting down on the arm-rest with a grin.

"Does Mary need her happy sauce?" I whispered.

"Fuck off grasshopper," Mary muttered. She didn't even sound close to drunk. We both grinned.

"Hows the divorce treating you?" I asked.

"Well, he hasn't gotten his guns out and shot me," Mary said, shrugging. "So...well as to be expected."

"Honey!"

Mom was running at me. If Dad was the kind of annoying uber-nerd who could toss out Star Trek quotes while also still pumping iron and being fit as a fiddle into his forties, Mom was the kind of person who could eat an entire plate of cookies and manage to both avoid diabetes and still be the kind of cushy that people on the internet described as 'thiccccccccccccccc.' Being my Mom, it meant that it was more awkward than arousing to get my head compacted between her huge, pillowy breasts. She squeezed me tightly and I squirmed, trying to get my head free.

"Have you picked a major yet?" Dad asked. "And why isn't it physics?"

"Mmphmmph!"

Grandma and Grandpa stepped in now, led in by Trevor. Trevor went to get a kiss on his cheek from his wife -- who had gone from sipping to full on gulping -- and I managed to get my head free...and the family free for all started. Mary snarked. Trevor was good natured and slightly distracted. Matilda sniffed imperiously. Grandpa muttered about my hair. Dad made Star Trek references. Mom chattered about her book club. And I, being the youngest and least successful (at least Mary had left two utterly heart broken men in her wake), floated at the edge of things...and fought the Greeblies.

The Greeblies were an invention of mine. Tiny little voices that muttered and snapped at the back of my head whenever I had to lift my head out of my own life and see the rest of my family. I'd see Trevor leaning against Matilda, his hand caressing her back.

Hey, look! He's a millionaire and has a beautiful wife. What have YOU done, you total fucking virgin? The Greeblies sang out.

I looked at Mary, who was pouring herself another bit of wine.

Hey, look. At least Mary has a fucking personality. She dyes her hair rainbow colors and cheats on her husband with other women. At least she does something, unlike you, you boring white bread asshole.

Shut. Up. Greeblies.

But since nothing exciting had happened to me the entire semester and I had accomplished nothing of note and my only skill was playing video games and watching dumb youtube videos, I had nothing to talk about that anyone would give a shit about. So the conversation continued as we settled down for dinner. And the Greeblies? The Greeblies kept up with their nattering.

***

The roast beef was gone. The mashed taters had been licked up. Mary had put enough wine down her gullet to destroy at least three grape fields. And the ice cream, the chocolate chips, the pumpkin pie and the whipped cream were all gone. We were basically balloons now. Which meant it was time for the Yalestone Family Yearly Snubbing of Tradition. Mom and Dad were both atheists. Grandpa didn't care. Grandma was too earnestly, intensely dedicated to the whole 'kindness to sinners' and 'turn the other cheek' part of Christianity to raise a fuss. Mary, Trevor and I were raised by atheists, meaning we were also atheists save for that worrying five year period where Mary had been really into Scientology.

Which meant rather than opening our presents on Christmas, we opened our presents on the night before Christmas.

Because fuck you, Jesus. Fuck. You.

Or, more accurately, because we just couldn't be assed to wait.

"And this is my present to you, Henry," Trevor said, a huge beaming smile on his face.

The first thing that flared up in my gut was intense jealousy. The box he had slid across me was roughly one and a quarter bigger than a human head, and it was wrapped in shiny silver wrapping paper. I forced the jealousy down and wished I could just...fucking drop kick some Greeblies into the sun. This was the Yalestone Family Yearly Snubbing of Tradition. It wasn't the time to be jealous. And besides, my brother was nice. He was a good guy. So...cool your jets and just...enjoy this Henry. Okay? I ripped the paper...

And then jealousy was blown away. Blown away by honest to god shock and excited joy. "Holyfuckingshit!"

"Language!" Mom said.

"Yeah, stop fucking swearing!" Dad said.

"What was that, honey?" Grandma asked, blinking at the lot of us, cocking her head.

But I was too busy holding up the box. The box that was containing the NeuroWave XT. Okay. Remember the Oculus Rift? The big old boxy thing on your face that, for a brief time, was considered to be the best VR had to offer? I once used that, about a month before Braintech released the first NeuroWave at a friend's house. It had been actually pretty impressive...for a boxy thing stuck on your face that projected images at you with a view screen. But then the NeruoWave had come out and we had all seen the footage and heard the press releases and realized that what we had thought was VR had actually been bullshit. But the NW had been too expensive for my high schooler's butt. And now that the XT was out, it was way too fucking expensive for my college butt.

But now I was holding it. I read the words on the box.

NEUROWAVE XT

Next Generation VIRTUAL REALITY

Nerve Induction Interface -- NO JACKS REQUIRED

100 TB Hard Drive -- LITERALLY THOUSANDS OF GAMES

You don't play the game. You ARE the game.

I shook my head, wonderingly.

"Don't play it too much," my brother said.

"W-Wait, where's the game for it?" I asked, then flushed. "Fuck! I didn't mean to sound like a total asshole-"

My entire family laughed. Save for my grandma, who was still trying to follow the conversation and not quite piecing it together. Trevor grinned at me. "Well, uh, Henry, Grandma wasn't sure what to buy you, soooo..." He gestured to her. Grandma blinked, then held out my package. "I suggested she get you the new Final Fantasy game!"

I squeaked. So, I loved Mass Effect. But I wasn't a fucking prude. I loved me some Final Fantasy -- well, the good ones. And since Japan was ten years ahead of the rest of us when it came to VR technology, the latest FF game was entirely operable on the NeuroWave. And so, I tore open the front of the box...and blinked slowly.

Grandma beamed at me. "I hope you enjoy your game, honey!" she said.

Grandma was near sighted. Possibly senile. Very deaf. And also quite good at getting things done, no matter what the obstacles were. No matter who was trying to stop her. For example, a sales rep asking her if she was sure she wanted to buy what she had picked up. Because the name I saw on the box was clearly...Fucking Fantasy 69. I didn't tear off the rest of the package, though my cheeks were flushed red enough for the rest of the family to notice. Mary snickered.

"This is Christmas. Almost. You're acting like it's a surprise that you're getting a present, my dude."

I nodded. "T-this is uh...thanks. So much." I blushed.

And I tucked the game under the NeuroWave XT box.

***

The guest bedroom was nicer than my dorm-room and I barely had time to notice it. I was too focused on unpacking the XT. The actual helmet was light and covered on the inside with the thingies that would go up against my skin and trick my brain into seeing the world differently. There was the power plug and...there was where the game chip would go. I opened the box for Fucking Fantasy 69, frowning. It was clearly a cheap-ass bargain basement knockoff game, since the box had very little on the back, save for a few bullet points about character customization and a game of 'romance and adventure.'

I looked at the headset, grinning slowly.

Well...

Maybe grandma's mistake would be my reward.

I slipped in the chip. The headset glowed faintly, the inner edge luminesceing to indicate that the scanners were coming online. I closed the door to my room, though I didn't lock it. I figured if something went wrong, I'd want someone to come in and help me. I laid down on the bed after reading the instructions that had come with the set. It claimed the XT no longer needed the restraint harnesses of old games. It'd short out the motor connection to your limbs, to keep you from flailing around. Still. It was cold out. I wriggled under some blankets, settled down, then slowly slid the helmet over my head, putting my arms back under the blankets.

Nothing happened. I saw nothing. Then I heard a faint chime.

"Take off the NeuroWave XT, please," a feminine voice said. It was clearly coming from the interior of my room. I blinked, then grabbed the helmet and slid it off, and found that I was now standing in a vast, empty blackness. A glowing blue woman floated in the air before me, smiling at me. She looked real. Well. Real for a glowing blue woman. Her feet barely grazed the mirror black surface that we stood on, and she was tastefully nude. In that she wore no clothes, but she also had no naughty bits. Like Cortana before the lewds started pouring out.

"Welcome to the main menu," she said. "I see you have one game loaded. Fucking Fantasy 69." She said this without any sign of judgment or confusion. Which made sense, she was just an AI program reading off a series of words. Why would she judge me, she wasn't my Mom. I still blushed. "Do you wish to play it?"

"Yes!" I said, excitedly.

She inclined her head.

The whole room around me shimmered, then flared into light and I found myself falling through a large, rippling tunnel. I fell forward -- and then my field of view was dominated by a huge graphic of a pair of crossed swords, lit by guttering torches, with the logo of Fucking Fantasy floating above it. Triumphant music blared and I grinned as the swords swung down and the shield they were crossed over opened inwards like a door.

"CHOOSE YOUR ORIENTATION!" boomed out around me. I snorted as I saw that three shimmering options were floating before me. Straight. Gay. Bisexual. I grinned, then reached out -- and yelped as I saw that my hand was a shimmering array of dots. It looked as if my normal fleshy body had been replaced with a holographic simulacrum. I supposed that this was because we were loading in. Still, I put my glittering shimmery finger against straight. I wasn't against gay people. I just didn't want any dick, no matter how long my hair was or how many times my grandpa insinuated otherwise.

The game seemed to take a long time to load. As it did so, I thought about what kind of character I'd make. I was usually into playing a mage, but would that be fun when you were actually in VR? I frowned. Part of the issue was that I wasn't sure how the mechanics of this game worked. The cheapo bastards who had made it hadn't thrown in a manual. But most modern RPGs these days didn't hose you down too much if you made wrong choices. Still, I realized that another choice was coming up.

"CHOOSE YOUR CLASS."

Fighter. Mage. Thief.

"Ah, what the hell?" I asked, tapping Mage. I grinned, imagining a gay mage shooting rainbows out of his staff. Wait, shit. That actually sounded kind of rad, now that I thought about it.

"CHOOSE YOUR RACE."

Oooh. Human. Elf. Tigren. Ogre. Dark Elf.

"God, I'm such a Drizzit wanna be," I muttered, touching Dark Elf. I had to go to bat for my dark elven bros. I mean, they were like regular elves, but sexier. They had that dominatrix thing going and red eyes? Hot. I grinned, slightly. Plus, they usually got a major magic buff. At least in most RPGs.

"CHOOSE YOUR GENDER."

I slapped female. Cause, I mean, duh. I always play...

Oh fuck.

***

"Cancel! Cancel! CANCEL!" I screamed, then stopped.

My voice was high pitched and feminine, even to my ears. It also echoed off the stone walls of a prison cell. A low laugh came from the guard who was patrolling past. He was an ugly brute, with a busty blond beard and mail that clinked and clattered as he walked. His torch flickered as he walked by, casting an almost blinding light into my cell. I clapped my hand over my eyes, hissing in pain. Then the guard and his damn light was gone. I slowly lowered my hand and...the first thing I noticed was that I could see perfectly fine in the dark. It was as if darkness simply...didn't exist for me.

I could see all the fine details, too. There was no distortion, and no loss of color. It was amazing.

The second thing I noticed was, oh, I WAS A FREAKING GIRL!

I had breasts. Firm, melon sized breasts that thrust out against my rough homespun tunic. I scrambled to my feet and looked down at my body. There were my boobs, clear as day. The skin was ebony black and slightly shiny, which remained true for my arms and my elegant fingers. I looked back and saw that my ass was as toned and as taut as a fucking drum. My hands went to my head and I tugged some silky white hair before my eyes. Yes. White hair. My finger went slowly to my ear. I rubbed it along my ear-lobe, feeling the tapering point. My fingers caressed...and I gasped, shuddering convulsively as pleasure burned through my body. My nipples hardened and I felt a strange heat and...wetness between my legs.