Becoming Holly
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

My neighbor Quinn Halberg was the nicest man. Why do nice guys always end up with bitches?

I always thought that Holly was a good name for her – pretty but prickly. Quinn adored her. He was too good for her.

When I started watching them, I thought that I was attracted to her. I thought that she could be the kind of woman that I could be with. I thought that I wanted to be with a woman. But after a while I realized that she was all wrong. In fact, everything that I thought about women seemed wrong. I had thoughts of how a woman should behave, and it seemed to me that many women were just like Holly. They made no effort to foster love. They would rather control and manipulate.

I wanted to have sex with a woman. I knew how it would be done. I had seen so many videos. A woman should yield. I felt that I could show somebody how to do that.

My house was above theirs. They thought that the fence screened them, but from the attic window I could see everything. I could not only see their backyard but because of the floor to ceiling windows onto it, I could see right into their living room and kitchen. I could see them arguing over breakfast, I could see her shouting at him when he got home, I could watch them at night, but I needed to ensure that the attic was dark, so that they did not know I was watching.

I even saw them have sex in the living room a few times. I have to admit that it was a turn on. I could not hear them, so I made the noises myself. I made a bit of a mess.

I had blind spots. I wanted to see them in bed having sex. I hacked into their security system and then duplicated their key fob so I could get in the house and plant other cameras.

I started to think of myself in her position, not his. It was just that I liked her body, but I did not like her. I liked him.

It was a fantasy. I didn’t think that it meant that I was gay.

I used to think that it was all because I desired her, whether or not I liked her. It seemed like I wanted Holly so much that I wanted to be inside her. Not just my cock, all of me. I read somewhere that the male anglerfish, who is much smaller than the female, attaches himself to her body permanently as part of mating. He then becomes unable to detach or survive without her and is ultimately absorbed into her body. He becomes part of her. That was how I felt I wanted to be.

Is that so strange?

I saw Holly wearing a dress, and then I saw the very same dress in a boutique on West Street. The shop lady asked me what size and I said: “I don’t know anything about women’s dress sizes, but she is about the same size as me.” I didn’t even know whether she was. I never got close enough to her. I watched from a distance, always. But I was sure that Quinn was bigger than me. If he had his arms around me, I would disappear into them.

But I wanted to disappear into her first.

That dress hung on my wardrobe door for ages. At least a day, and a night. I don’t know why I put it on. It was my size, after all. But from the moment I did, I knew what I had to do. I had to be Holly.

I have some skills. In fact, I live by my skills and I do very well. So, hacking into all her social media and banking records was not a problem. I learned all about her. Everything that I learned showed me that she was not a good person, but she led a good life. And she had a good man, who she treated like shit, and said terrible things about him behind his back. I know because I read her emails, posts and texts, and sometimes I listened to her on the phone. I listened to her voice and I tried to imitate it.

I had met Quinn Halberg; twice in fact. I am not sure that he noticed me. He certainly didn’t know me. But on both occasions, he was kind and generous; enough for me to know that I liked him. He deserved better than her. If I was her, I would be good for him. But there was a problem.

I put the dress on. I was the wrong shape. I would need to be narrower in the waist, fuller in the bust, and just a little bit bigger on the butt. How could I do that? By research, of course. Study the problem – solve the problem. The same with the face and the hair.

I thought I knew the internet. There is a huge amount of information about important things, like digital transformation, linear waterfalls and multi-cloud security issues, but all of this is miniscule compared to the sheer volume of information about body shaping, hair and skin care.

But the starting point of it all, appeared to be hormones. So, I began there. I got the stuff I needed – the shots, the patches or the pills. I could not decide which, so I used all three.

I had to wait, but that gave me time to invade every aspect of Holly’s life. Like the anglerfish, I was latched on, copulating in a strange way.

I wore my dress outside. I wore another, and another. I bought shoes. I was copying Holly, but slightly different in case I met her on the street. I went to the beauty shop. Not the local one. Not one where she would go. I had a photo of her. I wanted the same length and style. It required extensions.

I visited a plastic surgeon with the same photo. He said that he could do the work, but it would be costly and take up to a month to be completely healed. I told him to go ahead.

When I felt that I was ready I examined myself in the mirror. I was close. Very close. I was a little taller than her, I guessed. My breasts were a C-Cup and maybe a little smaller than hers. But I could be Holly.

Now all that I had to do was abduct her. I knew that this would be difficult for me. I had a range of stupefying drugs that I had obtained over the Dark Web, but it would need physical action by me. That was not something I would be good at. But I had my timing right. Quinn was going away overnight. All I needed was to do it while she slept.

What surprised me was just how heavy she was. She was not a large woman. Basically, just smaller than me. But unconscious she was, as they aptly call it “deadweight”. I had to remove a panel from my fence to drag her through. It scratched her body a little. I shackled her in my sound proofed basement.

I made sure that she had food and water for a few days. I could replenish as needed after that. But for now, I needed to settle down in my new home. I needed to wait for Quinn to come home.

I spent the day as Holly. I woke up as her. I followed the exact routine that I had watched many times. I checked my face and hair, I sat down to pee, I checked my face and hair, I took a shower, I checked my face and hair again like she did, I scrubbed my teeth, then I re-styled my hair and made up my face. I tried on some of her underwear. I now had breasts to put in the cups, although small, and bits that could be tucked easily in her panties, thankfully small. It was the fact that they were her panties that were the most exciting. Was I still thinking of sex with her? Whether it was the hormones or something else, I was thinking of sex as her.

I tried on some of her dresses. Plenty of them. They were a little small for me, but I found something nice for the afternoon. I had time. I found I decided to paint my finger and toenails, starting with the toenails. I was only halfway through my fingernails when Quinn came in.

He caught me by surprise. He was home a little early.

“Who are you?” he said. “Where’s Holly?” He looked shocked. It was expected, but still upsetting.

“I am Holly,” I explained. “The real Holly. As for my sister Ivy, who has been pretending to be me, she left in a fit this morning.”

For a moment he just looked shocked, then suspicious. “You’re not Holly,” he said.

“Look,” I said. “I know who you are. You are Quinn Halberg. Your name is on the lease with mine. I can assure you that I am Holly. I have a driving licence, even a passport somewhere. Have you checked her identification, ever?”

“Why would I look at my girlfriend’s driver’s license?” he said.

“Girlfriend?” I pretended shock. “Oh, you poor guy. She has not told you? Ivy is a man-hating lesbian. What has she tricked you into? Has she been taking money from you?”

“You’re crazy,” he said. “I would know if she was taking money from my checking account.”

“She will be. I know my sister. Do you have any other account? You should check. And do it straight away. She is on the move now. This is a pattern with her. Have a look in your account. Let me get you something to drink in the meantime. Would like a beer? You look like you do.

“Holly doesn’t allow beer in the house,” he said. His phone was in his hand and I knew the username and password for his investment account.

“I’m Holly,” I repeated. “Ivy doesn’t like beer. I do, a bit, but I got some in because a man should always have some beer in the fridge, for occasions just like this.” I was by his side with a glass of cold beer and small bowl of nuts. It was all I could do to stop myself running my hand through his hair.

“Jesus,” he said. “She has taken my money.”

“Oh dear. Well, I have done this before, I will help to get it back for you, if you promise not to prosecute her. She is my sister after all.”

“What can you do?” he asked. “Are you sure that you can get it back?”

“You don’t worry about a thing. Just you sit yourself down in that easy chair and kick those shoes off. I can fix us something for dinner. But right now, just put Ivy right out of your mind and relax. Tell me about your day. I’m a good listener.”

Do you see what I mean? That is the kind of woman that somebody like Quinn needs.

Somebody who helps him to relax and takes away his cares, rather than adding to them. Somebody who will make him a meal and laugh at things he says all the way through eating it, while all the while giving him subtle hints that she thinks he is the most gorgeous man alive. Why don’t women like Holly know this? Do you have to be a man first?

“So, you share a bedroom?” I said. “I just assumed the big room with all her clothes in it would be where I was sleeping tonight.”

“There is no room for my clothes, so I keep them in the spare room. I can find a mattress and sleep in there.”

“I really don’t want to put you out of your own bed.” That is what I told him, with my best lustful look. After giving him some hard liquor after dinner he was more than open to the idea of sharing that bed.

But by the time we were upstairs I realized that I had gone too far. I just wanted to please him, but now he wanted to be pleased.

“You’ve got a prick.” He almost screamed it.

“We can fix that,” I said with a wave of the hand. “But in the meantime, I can assure you that you have the better of the two sisters.” And with a little smile I added: “Holly may be prickly, but Ivy is poison.”

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2019