You grunt a little in exertion as you pick up the last stack of presents that you'd just wrapped in the privacy of your bedroom. Your eyes droop a little with exhaustion as you carry the precarious, heavy stack of presents for your Pokemon out to the living room of your home. It's been a long night, getting everything in place for the last leg of the Christmas preparation marathon, but as soon as these gifts for your faithful familiars are under the tree, you look forward to sleeping the heavenly peace of baby Jesus, knowing you'll need it for the Gogoat rodeo tomorrow morning, as your Pokemon burst from their beds to tear open their presents and play with their new toys or try out their new moves.

The lingering smell of deserts from dinner's past and the sounds of the crackling fire dancing with the soft, quiet Christmas music being played solo on piano over speakers greet you before you even enter the threshold, but which is otherwise serenely silent. Zapper and Floofy must have finally fallen asleep, you think to yourself. Past it, the warmth of the fire and the soothing glow of the Christmas tree welcome you in. You can already feel yourself relaxing at the sight of the tree, knowing the finish line is as good as crossed.

Even its towering height and the Jirachi star atop it do little to distract from the room's most prevalent occupant: Genevieve, your Gardevoir-turned-giant-blueberry, sitting right beside the fire and in front of the tree, dressed in otherwise tasteful and conservative winter wear, sans the boob window in her sweater that was the size of an actual window, showing off her ridiculously, inconceivably large and bulging breasts, as she sipped hot chocolate from her special, spill-proof cup.

She turned her head towards you, sensing her presence, and her rosy eyes lit up even more that from the reflections of the Christmas lights, shining like stars from within them.

"Oh, let me help you, Master!" she exclaims in her soft, quiet, chime-like voice.

Before you can even politely protest, Genevieve's berry-blue psychic aura surrounds the packages, and the float up from your arms and over to the tree, only to halt in the air.

"Oh... um... could you place these for me please?" Genevieve asks. "I can't really see over... you know..." her eyes ever so briefly flit to her massive, Miltank-sized mammaries before looking back to you and giggling softly in spite of herself.

In spite of yourself, you exhale a huffed chuckle, and trudge the last of the way over to the tree, trying hard not to stare at the ever-tempting pair of titties before you, like you might think of a goddess's as big, and pull the presents one by one from Genevieve's aura and place them under the tree. You sigh in relief as the last one is placed, then take a step back to admire your accomplishment. That's it; you're done. Another Christmas in the clear, all thanks to the real Santa of the house.

"Thanks for the help, Genevieve," you say as you stand up.

You hear a small smack from her full lips as she breaks from sipping her drink. "Anytime, Master." she says. You can hear the smile in her voice, though you can't see it, as from where you stand, her face is blocked by her colossal chest pillows.

Those celestial, unbelievably large breasts hold your attention for a few seconds longer than you'd care to admit. You look away, least they hypnotize you into a trance, towards the foot of the fireplace, where your Pikachu and Eevee had been restlessly fidgeting, even in their end-of-the-day exhaustion, but they were suddenly gone.

"Where are Zapper and Floofy?" you inquire, suddenly alert and looking around the room, but they are nowhere to be found.

"Oh, they were having trouble sleeping, so I took them... mountain climbing." Genevieve coyly answers.

You look up at her in confusion. Her lips pull tighter in a cheeky smile. Her eyes dart back to one of her breasts again, and she giggles.

You pull the step-ladder that you've been keeping nearby for the all-too often occasion of having to place ornaments back onto the tree, and unfold it in the middle of the room to stand eye-level with Genevieve. Atop one of her mountainous mommy milkers lay Zapper and Floofy, wrapped up in Zapper's favorite electric blue blanket, and sleeping the sweet slumber of cherubs.

You look back at Genevieve, and she just gamely bats her eyelashes at you, then takes a conceited, cocksure sip from her cup.

"Really?" you incredulously state.

"Oh, Please don't be upset with them, Master. I put them up here to help sooth them to sleep, but I don't have the heart to move them now. Besides, they're too little to know what... these are for."

You look back to the two sweater-stretcher sleeping Pokemon. Right then in her slumber, Floofy made a heart-meltingly adorable squeak as she nuzzled deeper into Zapper's cheek. Zapper shifted a little, and tightened his paw around Floofy's ever so slightly more.

You smile and exhale another chuckle in spite of the situation. You didn't have the heart to move them, either. And even if you did, they were a bit too... out of reach.

"They really like each other..." Genevieve says.

"I can tell." You respond.

"No, I mean "The two seem to get along really well!" "like.""

Your face hardens at the thought of clutches of eggs suddenly appearing all over your house. "Oh..."

"Not like that," Genevieve interrupts your thoughts, "not yet. They're just childhood sweet-hearts for now."

"Ah. That's a relief... for now..." You say as you stare off into the distance, past Genevieve, past the fire, as if you might gain the ability to glimpse the future as she has. That little piece of it that she already told you, when the two of you will... "get along well"... it's weighed on your mind every single day after she finally confessed why she permanently turned herself into a giant blueberry. You still don't know if your heart is in for that... but you also know you haven't done anything to stray from this path, knowing where it leads... with whom it converges...

The chime from the clock on the wall pulls you from your conflicted thoughts. 12 o'clock midnight. You look back at Genevieve, and she smiles, warm and genuine, as her vestigial hands make little "fwhip" noises as they happily flap from inside the divots sunken into her enormous blueberry body.

"Merry Christmas, Master."

You return her smile. "Merry Christmas to you too, Genevieve." One hand moved up to nervously scratch the back of your neck while the other drifts towards your back pocket. "Hey, I, uh, got you something."

"For me? Oh you shouldn't have!" Genevieve says with tongue-in-cheek humility.

"No, I... I should have." You say, even knowing this is another step on that path. You pull the little box from your back pocket, and offer it up to her. "Merry Christmas."

The box becomes weightless and drifts from your hand, but it the anticipation of her opening it still weighs on you. You try to keep your cool as the time to see if your little gamble on her interests is about to pay off. Genevieve opens the box, and you feel an immense relief as her eyes light up.

"Oh, Master, they're beautiful!" She exclaims as she pulls two pearl ear rings from the box. She doesn't say so, or even show it, but you can still sense a little confusion in spite of her joy and gratitude from her. Or maybe that's just your nerves.

"Yeah, I know you whenever you looked at ear rings, you kept coming back to those ones with the little blueberry sapphires on them, but then I thought that might be to obvious, or that the sapphires wouldn't stand out that much against your skin, so I was trying to think what gems would match well you your color palette, and then I thought about pearls, and thought that'd be both a nice neutral color, but also that it might be a nice way to bring back some of your old color, since you're not white anymore, but it'd be like a way of showing for how much you've changed, you're still you..." you trail off in uncertainty, "I... could just return them for the blueberry ones if you'd prefer..."

"Oh no, these are perfect!" Genevieve says, then looks back to the pearl ear rings, her adoration looking a little more pensive. "That's so thoughtful of you..." She looks back to you and smiles, then, breaking eye contact as little as possible, she puts them on her lowest ear points. "How do I look?"

You breath in a sigh of relief at her acceptance and appreciation, that weight finally off you as though Genevieve used her powers to lift it off you, and in that moment, you can look past how Genevieve turned herself into your most incorrigible sexual fetish to appreciate her feminine beauty.

"Like a great piece of jewelry yourself." You answer. "Those pearls should feel lucky to be worn by you."

Genevieve smiles, and for the briefest moment, big enough for her lips to part and flash her pearly-white teeth (the only part of her besides her eyes that's still white), before she looks away bashfully, but with little dimples still indented into her cheeks from her delight. "Thank you, Master. Thank you so much."

You smile in return, your Christmas having already been made just a few minutes in.

"I got you something, too."

What Genevieve said catches you so by surprise that it takes you a moment to register. "What?"

"I got you a present, too."

"Wha... Oh, Genevieve, you didn't need to do that."

"Yes, I did. Christmas is for showing the ones you love how much you you care about them." Genevieve pointedly says as she pulls a gift-wrapped cube from the canyon between her bosoms.

You look back and forth between the box and the fissure of cleavage a few times before looking back at her with an even more incredulous expression. "Really?"

"Well, yeah, I don't have pockets on this outfit, and that would have spoiled the surprise." She says nonchalantly, as if her enormous, bewitching boobs were just naturally meant to form a pocket. "Now go ahead, open it!" she says, giddily flapping her obsolete hands and feet.

You don't break eye contact with Genevieve until a few seconds after you've taken the box, making a mental note to by her a purse, or some cargo pants, or something for next Christmas. You weigh the box in your hands. I feels familiar, somehow. You look backup at Genevieve one last time, her excited smile beckoning you, and you dig under the seems of the folder paper and tear it off, quietly, as to not wake Zapper and Floofy. It reveals a plain white box, which you open the lid on, and---

Your breath catches inside your chest, where you hold it so shocked it's as if you've temporarily forgotten how to breathe. You release it as your mouth falls open, and for a moment your trainer brain takes over as you reach for the highly coveted prize.

"Genevieve... I..."

A Master Ball. Genevieve got you a Master Ball.

"Do you like it?" Genevieve asks. If she could move, she'd be leaning in, hanging on your next words.

"I... I don't know what to say..."

She frowns. "Do you... not like it?"

"No, it's... one of the most generous gifts anyone has ever given me..." you speak in amazement, filters down. It's so precious you don't even know if you deserve it.

As if sensing you over-humility, Genevieve's aura lights up around your fingers, tightening them around the Master Ball. You look back up at her, and she smiles warmly.

You smile at her. "Thank you, Genevieve."

She smiles back. "Your welcome, Master." Her smile turns coy. "Just don't go using that on a Pokemon you'll cherish more than me!"

You chuckle, then hold up the ball for her to see. "Want me to swap your ball for this?"

She giggles, bright and chipper. Your eyes widen a little, as you feel something pass like a heavy wind through you, and you realize; Genevieve was just as nervous to give her gift to you, too, and your accepting it has filled her with joy, like a fuel for her soul.

"Genevieve, I..." another weight comes upon you, and the words get caught in your throat.

Genevieve tries to keep her expression straight, but you still see the slightest, most subtle hint of the disappointment and dejection she's trying to hide.

No. Your heart might not be strong enough to make the commitment yet, but you aren't going to let this go by without showing her how much you care, how much she matters. You step down off the stool, walk up to her side, and wrap your arms around as much of her round, ripe, immense blueberry body in as much of a hug as you can give her.

"Thank you so much, Genevieve. My life is better for having you in it."

You feel the slight movements of her body cease as her own breath catches inside her. You smile wider, and, feeling a little bolder, tighten your hug.

"You're such a big blueberry..." you murmur into her side.

You hear the tiniest squeak from above, but you can feel the joy emanating from her. You know, deep down, on the inside, she's squealing and screaming in unmitigated joy. You feel her aura spread across your back and surround your arms, and next thing you know, she's pulled you into a hug so hard that it makes her tilt a little. Pressed tight into her, you hear, you feel through her, as much as you hear it in the air as her musical voice starts humming merrily along to the Christmas music.

You smile, and ever so slightly rub your cheek against your permaberry Gardevoir. This Christmas, you both might not have gotten exactly what you wanted, or even expected, but you both gave each other what you needed, and you can't think of anyone else you'd rather share this moment with.

---

A very (late...) berry, Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year!