The Origins of Christmas Trees

The Origins of Christmas Trees Omnibus

This story is submitted for the Christmas 2020 story contest and features N/C, MFF, lesbian, impregnation, CFNF/CMNF, and non-human elements. It's a long one, but hopefully thought-provoking and arousing. Enjoy!

PROLOGUE

The old tree spoke slowly, but with purpose. "What is the status of the Breeding Program, Douglas Fir 129845?"

The young fir put himself forward and spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "Chairman Scotch, other assembled trees, we have just finished selecting the final 50 elven vessels for the next generation. Those elves should be receiving their summons within the next day or two. They will deliver a cohort of spruces, hemlocks, and pines for this year's crop. By our estimation, this will be the final time we will need to use the cover of the Breeding Program. Once this cohort of elves brings forth the next generation, we should be in a position to seize power from Santa, then we will no longer need the Breeding Program in its current iteration. Of course, for right now that is conjecture; at least until we hear the results of the latest tree census." Once finished, it retreated back into the shadows.

"Hmm good work, Douglas Fir 129845. I would also like to get an up-to-date count on our numbers. Larch 39799, how many strong are we? And when was your last count taken?"

An older tree pushed its way forward. "Thank you Chairman Scotch. The last census was conducted three weeks ago by Blitzen and Donner. They counted, uh, let's see here...uh 1,894,294 trees within the North Pole's territory. The last 90 years of the Breeding Program have been hugely successful, and have swollen our ranks. And taking advantage of elven medicine and technology has increased our lifespans by hundreds of years. Good Chairman, if I may be so bold, I agree with the young Fir that we can seize control of the North Pole shortly after Christmas this year."

"Hmmm, I'd like to let our Battle Leader weigh in on when it is the right time to seize control. Battle Leader Hemlock 44578, what say you? And can you update this gathering on your covert team's progress in subduing the elf population?"

A grizzled and scarred hemlock stepped forward and cleared its throat. In a gravelly voice, it said, "I concur with the assessments provided by Fir and the Larch, good Chairman. We can topple Santa shortly after Christmas this year with a rapid strike that will overwhelm their meagre defences. As you know, we own Blitzen, Donner, and Comet, as well as a significant portion of the elven governing class and academia. They are providing us with inside intelligence and operational support. And I'm happy to report that we have made great progress in our covert subversion of the elves. At last count, we exert control over 30% of the elven general population by adding the Solution to their water supply."

The gathered trees reacted to that news with a mixture of gasps, cheers, groans, and applause. There was also some commotion towards the rear of the chamber, and a tall pine shouted from the back, "But what about the losses to that population? Aren't we losing too many of them? I've seen estimates that as many as 30% of those exposed to the Solution go insane. Do I need to remind you that 30% of 30% means that we actually have far fewer elven converts than we are anticipating? And won't those losses of elves raise Santa's suspicions? We've all seen them go crazy; the ones who won't accept our control behave oddly, and even the ones that we do control ultimately start to lose it, and subsequently their usefulness to our cause is ended." Lots of the other assembled tress grumbled, some in agreement with the question, some in anger at the questioner, and others in fear and unease over the whole situation.

The Chairman cleared its throat and raised four mighty limbs, and the gathering fell silent. "My fellow trees, losing 30% of the elven population has been deemed acceptable by the ruling council. Besides, the fools in Santa's council believe their elven losses are due to work fatigue and burnout caused by the greed and crazy wishes of the spoiled humans they serve. They do not suspect us. The ruling council has rendered their decision, so let that be the end of that discussion!

Now back to the matter at hand. As chairman, it is my solemn duty to protect and care for all of tree kind. And in times such as these, we are forced to take action to preserve that which can be preserved. Therefore, I am authorizing the final batch of elven Breeders to be brought in. I am also authorizing the Battle Leaders to prepare their troops to launch a takeover after Christmas this year. Finally, I am authorizing our covert operatives to continue subverting and subduing the elven population to soften them up in advance of our strike. Once we have deposed Santa and secured the North Pole for our own, we can begin remaking this planet for our own well-being again. Let's meet again next week. Everyone is now dismissed!"

The trees slowly filed out of the great auditorium and returned to their posts. Soon, the time would be right for Santa's overthrow...

********

CHAPTER 1 - THE SUMMONS

It was a cold, dreary morning in May when the notification came down from NPC that my name had been selected for this year's breeding lottery.

I had gotten out of bed at 6am as per usual, gone through my morning routine in the bathroom, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do for breakfast. That was when my phone pinged with a notification of a new email in my inbox. Frankly, it startled me because I was unused to receiving emails so early in the morning.

Intrigued, I opened the email app and was greeted by the following message:

Attention Holly Jolly,

Santa has been presented with a list of elves who are of breeding age this year, and your name was included. After thorough review, you are among the 50 finalists selected to fulfill your sacred duty to the North Pole's Christmas Tree Breeding Program. Congratulations on your selection; it is indeed an honour to give birth to a new batch of trees at the North Pole.

You are to report to the Breeding Centre on level B17 of the Blitzen Research Facility at 10:00 tomorrow morning (May 19). During this initial meeting, our team will run a battery of tests to ensure that you are capable of bringing life to a new generation of mighty Christmas trees.

We request that you fast for at least 18 hours before your arrival, and that you wear comfortable attire that you can easily remove and put back on. All your questions will be answered at tomorrow's meeting.

Failure to comply will result in expulsion from the North Pole in accordance with NP regulation 6, paragraph 10, subsection 17 (the Tree Breeding and Species Renewal Act of 1211).

We will see you tomorrow.

Respectfully,

Drs Silverbells and Mistletoe, and Blitzen (Chair of the Breeding Committee)

My first thought was this had to be a joke. Maybe Merry or Yule was playing a prank on me (as elves are wont to do). But on further reading of the message, and verifying the sender's address and other metadata, I became convinced this message was indeed legitimate.

Shit! I didn't want to be a 'treemum'. This is totally going to set me back, and I'm not going to make my quotas for the rest of the month, and maybe not for the next several months!

My second thought was even more profound and disturbing: how do the trees even mate with elves, and what would it do to my body to become a breeder for the race of mighty Christmas trees. What was involved? How does an elf become impregnated by a tree? And would this ruin my chances of finding love, happiness, and fulfillment with other elves my age? For a couple weeks now I'd had my eye on Tinsel Cranberry who worked in Quality Control, working up the courage to let him know I was interested in pursuing a relationship with him.

Nobody really talked about how the mighty Christmas trees came into being. We all know there is a special program that Santa and the reindeer initiated after their war with Ghengis Khan in 1209. During that war, Khan's forces besieged the North Pole and set fire to the mighty grove of magical trees that ringed the facility. Ultimately they were beaten back to the lands they controlled in Asia, but the cost to us was steep. Thus, Santa and the North Pole Council of the day enacted the Tree Breeding and Species Renewal Act of 1211. As far as the program itself and how it worked...that was shrouded in secrecy.

Sighing, I pushed those thoughts out of my head and proceeded to make breakfast and get ready for work.

It was a little strange walking in to the Electronics workshop for the start of my shift. Something felt off. The knowing looks I received from my coworkers, the hushed whispers, conversations that cut off abruptly as I approached; they all contributed to my general sense of unease. It seemed impossible that my coworkers would know. And maybe I was being a little paranoid. Still, it was impossible to shake my sense of unease, and I went through my morning in a bit of a fog.

At lunch, as we were shuffling into the dining hall, I spied my friends Merry, Yule, and Snow at a table in the corner, so after I'd gotten my food, I made my way over to join them. The three of them had their heads together, and Merry was speaking urgently in hushed tones.

"...selected me. They said I'd be an excellent candidate to become a treemum. I couldn't believe it!" Taking notice of me approaching, she stopped and looked up at

me in terror.

Yule turned as I sat down and said, "Hey Holly. We were um just talking about uhhh..." He trailed off.

"Talking about what?"

"We were just talking about an email I got from the NPC. It said they've chosen me to become a treemum! I'm freaking the fuck out here!" Merry exclaimed.

Relief flooded me, mixed with a sense of sorrow. Relief that I may not be experiencing this alone, sorrow for my friend who was obviously upset by the news.

"Me too." I ventured. "I also got selected."

"This is total bullshit, right?!? I mean, they expect us to just become brood mares for the next generation of trees. Like, why don't we get a say on who we get to mate with? I'm so pissed at Santa and Blitzen right now. And this is totally going to fuck with my quotas. I was aiming at a promotion to supervisor next year, but now I've gotta take time out to fuck a tree and carry its baby. Man, fuck that noise! And fuck this whole fucking system!"

Merry was definitely angry about this turn of events, while I was more shell-shocked by the whole situation.

Yule spoke up. "You guys, I wish there was something I could do to help. But you know the rules. What the big guy says, goes around here. And if he wants you to be treemums, you either do or you'll be fending for yourselves outside the wall."

Merry spoke up again, the agitation plain on her face. "Yes, but it's the unknown. And the fact that I don't feel like that's much of a choice. It's like 'Do this or else'. It's total bullshit! And besides, I don't think I have ever talked to an elf who came out the other side of the breeding program. It's sort of like after becoming a treemum, they seem to be kept separated from the rest of us. Remember last year when Harper and Drummer were taken out of Clothes to be treemums? Have any of you spoken to them since? I haven't. I tried, but they are avoiding me. And remember, we used to be tight with them. Fuck!!" She pounded the table as if to punctuate what she was saying, then fell silent.

Now that Merry's outburst was over, we all seemed to retreat in on ourselves to mull over the ramifications of what it meant to be a treemum. Harper and Drummer had been part of our little lunchtime group, often eating with us and sharing stories of some of the clothes they produced for people all around the world. Sometimes they'd even join us at the bar after shift, singing karaoke tunes and drinking rum & eggnogs. But since they had been conscripted into the Breeding Program last year, they kept to themselves, never joining us for lunches or after work social events. Our many attempts at trying to bring them back into the fold were rebuffed until we just gave up.

After a minute of quiet reflection and dread (on my part), Snow spoke up. "Guys, we're not going to let that happen to us. We're going to remain tight and still continue to hang out. You're our friends, and we will always support you and be here for you. You have to promise us, Merry and Holly, that you won't shut us out. And we'll do everything we can to help."

Merry looked up at Snow, eyes red and lip quivering, and said, "Thanks guys. I'll try,".

I chimed in with a "Me too," and I meant it. I would try.

I returned to my workstation after lunch. My desk was strewn with parts for drones, which were a hot gift item this year (and for the past couple years since I joined Electronic Toy Fabrication). I sat, idly twirling a propeller, trying to get in the headspace to begin assembly, but having little success.

About 10 minutes after lunch, my supervisor Candy stuck her head around the corner of my station, startling me out of my reverie. "Jolly, I just got word from HR that you're going to be taken off the floor tomorrow to participate in the tree breeding program. Transfer your in-flight builds and future orders to Hoho by end of day today."

"Okay," I replied without much enthusiasm.

Candy's normally stern face softened a little. She stepped in to my station and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Hey, it'll be okay. If you're selected, you'll be fulfilling a sacred duty that many elves have done in the past. You know how important the mighty trees are to our defence, our way of life, and our industry. In fact, can I let you in on a little secret?"

I nodded warily.

"In my early twenties, I was selected as a candidate to become a treemum."

I was surprised by this revelation. She must have seen that surprise register on my face because she took that as leave to continue. Looking me in the eyes, she said, "Yes I was a candidate. I went in for the tests. I admit that I was scared and felt like my life was over. But, you know, when the big guy makes a request like that, you comply or else. So I went in for the tests. It was embarrassing standing naked in an exam room, being poked and prodded by doctors, being asked about all of my past sexual partners and my level of sexual activity. And the examination..." She trailed off and wistfully looked away for a moment.

Then her focus snapped back and she said, "But you want to know a secret that's not commonly known?"

I nodded eagerly.

"Only about 25 - 30% of elves are capable of being treemums. So the odds are slightly in your favour that you won't be selected to carry a tree. I wasn't. Turns out my uterus is too alkaline to be viable. And if you're not chosen, you can return here, no harm no foul. I won't hold tomorrow's session against you and your quota totals."

Tears formed in my eyes. This was a ray of hope. Candy squeezed my hand gently and left.

I finished the rest of my shift and transferred the work to Hoho as requested. I turned off the lights and left my station, wondering whether I'd ever see it again. I made the long train ride home to my apartment in D sector, silently stewing and wondering what tomorrow had in store for me. The realization that I hadn't had any food since lunch, and that I needed to fast only added to my misery. I curled up to try reading a book, but I couldn't concentrate. I ended up taking a long, hot shower, then went to bed.

The morning of the appointment arrived like all other mornings at the North Pole; grey, dreary, and cold. I slept in until 7, then got dressed in a pair of red & white striped tights and a green sweater that was bulky and frumpy, and showed no hint of my curves. I didn't do anything special with my hair, nor did I make much of an attempt at makeup. I was trying to make myself as plain as possible, hoping that the selection committee would pass me over based on my looks.

Silently lamenting my lack of coffee, I boarded the train from D sector and took it to Central, then boarded a train bound for B sector where the Blitzen Research Facility was located. I met Merry on the B train (she was coming in from F sector), and we sat together in awkward silence as we made our way to the lab.

The Blitzen Research Facility was on the far outskirts of B sector, so we had to take a tram there from B station. It was a large, imposing building, windowless and clad in grey siding, and featuring none of the decoration and jolly presence that was a significant part of most North Pole architecture.

We went inside and were directed to the visitor welcome desk. The bored-looking guard took our names, gave us our visitors passes, and directed us to an elevator around the corner that would take us down to level B17. I felt the lump in my throat as the huge elevator doors clanged shut, and a quick glance at Merry showed that she was also extremely nervous. She smiled wanly at me and gave my hand a quick squeeze as we descended into the depths of the unknown. Finally, the elevator slowed and lurched to a stop, then the door opened to a wide and tall well-lit hallway. At the security doors, we produced our passes and were buzzed in to a waiting room by the guard.

There was another elf I didn't recognize sitting in a chair, chewing her nails. She looked up when we entered the waiting room, but seeing that we were candidates like her, she went back to compulsively chewing on ragged-looking fingernails without a word or even another glance in our direction.

The anxiety in the room was palpable as the fourth and fifth candidates arrived separately. All of us stewed in silence, the minutes stretching out into eternity. Just when my anxiety was peaking and I thought I couldn't stand to wait any longer, another door opened on the far side of the room and two elves emerged, both wearing white lab coats and carrying clipboards.

The taller elf on the left cleared his throat and spoke in a high nasal voice, "Good morning, and thank you for coming on time. Punctuality is important in the Program, and it brings joy to my heart to see you assembled here. I'm Dr Mistletoe, and this is my colleague, Dr Silverbells. We're the lead physicians for the North Pole's Christmas Tree Breeding Program, which we simply call 'the Program' around here. You five have been selected from a pool of over 4500 elven females between the ages of 20-23 to become potential 'treemums', as you kids call it, for this year's herd. Over the next several days, we will be testing other candidates too.

Today, you're here to undergo further testing to determine whether you are fit to bring forth the next generation of mighty Christmas trees. I don't have to remind you what an important honour and task this is. Now I'd like to have Miss Jolly come join me in exam room 1. Miss Snowflake will be in room 2 with Dr Silverbells. And in a moment, other technicians will come out to escort the rest of you to your exam rooms. Chop chop. Time's wasting."

And with that, he spun on his heel and opened the door from which they had just emerged. The fingernail chewer slowly stood up. I rose as well, shot Merry a worried glance, and followed Dr Mistletoe through the door into a nondescript corridor. Ahead of us, Dr Silverbells pressed his badge against the security scanner outside of room 2, then when the door unlocked, he held the door and motioned Miss Snowflake inside. Dr Mistletoe led me a couple doors down, unlocked his door, then wordlessly motioned for me to enter.

The room was stark white, and contained a large metal operating table, lots of equipment, a chair, and a large mirror on the far wall. Still without saying a word, Dr Mistletoe motioned for me to mount the table. He sat in the chair and looked at his clipboard silently, his facial expression neutral. Just when I thought that I was going to scream from all of the pent-up anxiety, he finally looked up at me, appraising me as if he was trying to figure something out. I grew self-conscious under that cold appraising stare, wondering what he was thinking.