Lonely in Berlin

Chapter 1: A lonely Christmas Eve

This story is a transgender erotic romance. The main characters are a dominant male (Jack) and a shy, lonely, and sexually-submissive trans girl (Elfi). It is adult-themed and was written primarily as a piece of erotica, however, I've tried to do a lot more than that.

While there is a fair bit of sex, this story also deals with genuine issues that trans people face growing up and while dating. I wanted a degree of realism, and there's a lot of angst and emotional tension in the mix.

It is told from Elfi's perspective. I hope you enjoy it :)

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"Elfi," a male voice barked, directly to my left. I winced as the sound exploded against my eardrums, and angry flecks of saliva slapped against my cheek. "Get back to fucking work. Now!"

If that sounded harsh written in English, let me tell you it actually made my skull vibrate in the original German. German is a perfect language for shouting.

The words came from my boss, Klaus Richter, Head of Entertainment at the Christmas market in Berlin, where I worked. My muscles tensed, my hands started to tremble, and I immediately dropped the hat with the cute koala face on it back onto the stall.

I turned ninety degrees to face, the fat, bearded Prussian leaning down towards my face. I arched my spine backward as his face got even closer to mine. My five-foot-three body felt even smaller than usual next to this flabby, six-foot giant.

"I don't pay you to shop, Elfi. I pay you to work," he rasped, his spittle again spraying over my face and down my glitter-covered cleavage.

"Sorry, Herr Richter," I said, meekly, desperately trying to stop myself flinching at his closeness, "but it's meant to be my break."

"If you want to take a break, take it in the van. Have you ever seen an angel out shopping?" Herr Richter said. He let his words hang triumphantly in the air for a second. "No, you haven't, have you? Nor has anyone else. That's because angels don't fucking shop."

His comments referred to the fact I was dressed as an angel, a 'Christmas angel,' in fact. It was my job to walk around the vast market with two other girls, holding lanterns and providing eye candy to the onlooking visitors. Apparently, we were a major draw.

I gulped, not knowing how to respond. Of course real angels don't shop... but nor do they tend to work at Berlin Christmas markets. And even if they did, I'm willing to bet they wouldn't strut about in tight white jackets, unseasonably short, white skirts, push-up bras, and stiletto knee-boots. I'd also be willing to bet that their halo wouldn't be constructed out of wire and tinsel.

My heart thumped in my chest as my mouth opened and closed pathetically.

"Save your excuses," he snarled. "It's Christmas Eve. We don't have time for breaks anyway. Go find Heidi and Mitzi and start marching."

"Yes, Herr Richter," I whispered. I hung my head so that my long, blonde hair shrouded my humiliated, red face. I shuffled past my unmoving boss, out from the protective shelter of the stall and into the snow that drifted down from the black Berlin sky. I wiped the globs of Herr Richter's saliva from my face and chest, and avoided the temptation to look back at the hat. Objectively, it wasn't anything special; in fact, it was rather cheaply made, but it had a koala on it, and that was enough for me. I loved koalas. Or at least, I loved what they represented to me.

My mini-obsession with the animal had started around five years ago and had recently become more intense. When I had fled my parents' house, just after I'd turned fifteen, my grandmother took me in. To cheer me up, she had bought me a soft toy koala. It wasn't much, but it gave me something to cuddle during the long nights of tears that had come from having my life torn apart.